Across the Mind

Across the Mind

People walk by
Strangers with strange things happening.
I see
colors out the windows, apparitions float by.
I see
children, who are they?
I hear
Steady low music plays a tune
that is scrabbled about in my brain cells.
Hurry
Get the slide, look at it from the microscope.
I see
fibrous tissues cells, red and pinks
I hear
Shadow talk, what happens to the brain cells when they die.
O my
Do you run away, do you stay?
Where is my top hat?
I have lost it or is there a top hat?
I am afraid
Forgetting, knowing you are forgetting.
Do you go before you are gone?
The shadows press against my forehead.
I am afraid.
I am afraid
Of the Fade

 

Material is copyrighted to & by
nebottalico ©
Pen Names | AKA (also known as) also under copyright
~musingsilence ~∞ © LadyO©
In the year 2017 of conflict and wandering aimlessly ©

Day 7 January 7th, 2017

Day 7 January 7th, 2017

 

 

Round about
a way
Not straight
true north
Nor west

Places that never
belong to anyone
Well, they should
not belong to anyone

They need to be free
As we need to be free
Not encumbered

She smiled, with
her blue eyes bright
As she twirled
a bit of her hair

 

Material is copyrighted to & by
nebottalico  ©
Pen Names | AKA (also known as) also under copyright
~musingsilence ~∞ ©
LadyO©
In the year 2017 of conflict and wandering aimlessly ©

Syntax, The Unexpected Error

Syntax, The Unexpected Error

Day 3 January 2017 Poems

Tweets ought to be
birds singing
Yet, we sigh,,, some
Unconvinced vernacular.
Those that believed, |Still|

Others, set in their ways;
For change, ought not
See,
See,
Have
Seen
the disruption.

1930s come, go.
1950s come, go.
2016 come, go.

We bargain, we fear, we rage
“We” in the mixture of the
larger audience needs to
reach into the bowels,
the sanguine parts
And twist,
Bloodied
we turn

Build voices
quiet resistance
less than a number of ticks
How many 140?

Tick, tick, tick-
tock.

Material is copyrighted to & by
nebottalico ©
Pen Names | AKA (also known as) also under copyright
~musingsilence ~∞ ©
LadyO©
In the year 2017 of conflict and wandering aimlessly ©

Primitive dreams

Primitive dreams

Did you lose your way…

along the passages through the cliffs?

Falling, falling, lips brushed cold          Midnight night skies,

to the warmth of Gauguin‘s light.

Pressed iced glass colors                  Calmness washed absent

Flight, from civility                               Bohemian magic

Rediscovery in                                   Pressed fingers pulse beat

The rhythm of paced breaths             the pearls dropped …

spilling on to floor stealing                  the shimmer of pale moons.

Bending images back

Into an Iris penetrating….

nike e. bottalico