a tiny glimpse
Flavoured by the twinge of the wrecked planet
Counting on the stars to align in a way that makes everyone one
Watching the goers go and the makers make a ton
Of wretched funds off the shoulders of the young
I learn a little of what passed and what’s to become
The entire thing.
Looking out from a pinpoint of light
The players carve our path
And we are not the players but the stones in their shoes reminding them of whose play this is.
Choose a direction and when it changes, change with it.
Adore your own uncertainty.
Life is uncertain and lovely.
Life is a programmed, tumultuous plea just asking for rule, I see.
A dream into which we are locked and casted from and it was that way from the beginning.
Pleasing tastes and sounds and sights are here for taking. Air. Leaves. My Mother’s look.
Love and breaking love and then to love again; my god, it is love.
My god is love. It is the meaning and the one chance we have.
Love the catalyst. Love the Madonna. Love the voice in your head.
Ignore the power of the negative and instead
Look outward. A place is there.
More by this Author
Ann Street, Greenock, 1967 McLean Museum - Eugene Mehat My mother grew up in Greenock, Scotland. She was born there, at The Rankin Hospital, and lived in the town until she was nineteen years old. She still remembers...