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musing (Remove filter)

Stagnant Flux

It's one in the morning but my mind won't heed the clock
I am paralyzed by thoughts, by a sense of waiting that both exhausts and perversely energizes.
I am spasming, striking between these polar states like an electron through a circuit.
Do I wait for a sign?
For an opportunity or revelation?
And what force is this that stills my lids from succumbing to sleep's gravity?
I hope, and fear in ...

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late night self criticsmusing

The Path

The hand of fate can touch so coldly on a life.
Pulling one ahead without thought of the heart’s fragility.
And why still does it leave me hopeful, when all I feel is pain.
Is this life’s mystery, or the secret to humanity’s endurance?
To struggle without reason or encouragement
Toward some unknowable paradise we’ll never see?
Or could it be that very despair, so deep and heavy, wherein we f...

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For those I’ve lost, those I’ve left, those I hurt and all those I walked by leaving the potential of future loves forever spinning in the realm of might have been.

How do you measure the value of a life?
Day by day meticulously noting defeats and victories
Tallying the binary source code of your programmed life?
Or is value found in the flavor of the moment?
The act of following an arbitra...

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d i s s o l v e d

when my eyes close 

and the day ends

thoughts get so loud

your curvy silhouette disintegrates 

I lose sight of you

my world loses the right you

as your mediocre choices

blend you in with the crowd


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coffee and me

coffee, me, and no one around

I listen to me, I talk to me, decide life

we imagine, dream, fantasize

some of that is said out loud

some added to my notes

some sent out into the universe 

every sip brings me back to earth

and then we go again

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I'm a cliché (mused)

Mused/inspired by 'If only for a Moment' by Devon Brock


I'm a cliché, a subtle curve in the great cycle of life.
I hold the same importance in the grand scheme of things
as a drop of water or a grain of sand,
somehow autonomous
yet an integral part of an ocean,
or a monolithic mountain boulder,
a particle of mist in a hurricane
What next?
Perhaps we take the form of a hybrid,
a sa...

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cycle of lifecyclicalhumanityinspiredmortalitymusedmusesmusing

The Budding Senescent

The Budding of the Senescent



When you reach the forgotten age
like 45, between 40 & 50
you realise that you need someone
by your side to remind you
that it isn't who you're with
but what you feel in your heart
they say life begins at 40
they also say that it's the mid life crisis

for sure you're no longer young
and for sure have not attained seniority eithe...

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Wind Chimes


small sounds
twinkle in my ear
a velvet touch of
invisible fingers quietly
mingle on a weathered cheek
with sullen humid arvo sweat

bleating echoes in the wind
dessicated foliage rustles
as creaking floorboards
whisper willowed memories --
childhood's laughter rings
clarion of tomorrow fades






Please make your response or com...

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