My life is a pickle each daily slice tangy and sweet but sometimes it can turn suddenly sour..... puckering up my lips and my heart.
<> Drawn from where fate preserves all sorrows in the jar of bitter circumstances, nevertheless I savor the flavour of both while breathing in all the monotonous tasteless breaths that stretch before me.
<> ( ( ( ( ( ( O ) ) ) ) ) )
<> Love is a steamroller bringing all that is
seperate tightly together smoothing out all the bumps and the pitfalls in the road of life.
<> Merging two lanes that will travel together side by side down joyous paths.
<> Love rolls over you erasing all doubt that stands in its way leaving a steaming expanse of warmth behind it. <> Death is an exclamation point, a period that lies under a large vertical marker, much in the same way that you will lie under a large vertical marker over the period that marks the end of your sentence in this life, <> Birth is a portal a doorway of flesh opened only a few centimeters allowing you to squeeze out then it closes behind you forevermore.
It is the only door you can never re-enter yet it clings to you upon your leaving with a long cord to sustain you until it too is severed. <> Courage is honorable insanity driven by adrenaline and impulse.
<> The mind ignores all normal hesitations and jumps headlong into the improbable the impossible...without any thought of self preservation.
<> A form of attempted suicide with a twist, for if you live you will be looked upon with favour and if you die
you will be revered.
<> Peace is the total abscence of fear thus the impossibility of achieving it in this life looms large for who is without fear?
<> Poetry is a rollercoaster where on you ride the peaks and the valleys of your emotions.
<> It's a ride shared with others some enjoy the trip flinging their arms up in delight, while others fail to grasp clinging fearfully to each page, afraid of misinterperting your thoughts.
<> Sometimes a poems words come fast rushing down in a long sweeping flow, othertimes they go clickety-clack clickety clack up a dreaded hill of uncertianity.
<> But at the end of each ride you rush back to jump in on some more lines and take the thrill of riding/writing the tracks over the pages again.
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