Indignation is no trip to solidarity.
No prized, or treasured fellowship,
while fixed on the wayward ego-
Into the wind we go, where there’s
an unending expanse to listen if willing.
I struggle with titles. If you have one for this, I’d like to hear from you.
Saw a penny today.
Couldn’t pick it up.
Couldn’t even say
if it was heads or tails
until the clouds moved on.
nothing of this.
Sent from my iPhone
It’s all misleading
What creation are you
I is the self that self creates
alone and along with the ride
I’m much more thin
while my face is gone-
Isn’t this the strangest shadow.
We know so little
why should I listen to the lot-
So I don’t.
Want to read one more poem? You can via the link below. Cheers and enjoy.
It’s been my observation that most people hear but don’t listen then speak without meaning what they say. -M. Taggart
Wash you dirty soul-
Hell is waiting-
As a child I would laugh. As a teenager I would fight. As a young man I would debate. And fight. Now I would give no emotion. I would enjoy the self reflection process I’d put them through.