As the worm turns
it spins with the earth
yet is as fully separate
as the humans that walk upon it
the matter lies flat over the worm
the shockwaves from running feet
across the dirt as the worm swims
feeling surface moves as it goes
frozen by time the material loosens
as the worm drives its’ way
through a darkness that needs no eyes
a place whose pressure grows
less where the worm has passed
creating footprints in the dirt
making it less a hiding ground
it becomes by then a stomping ground
Thanks, khet.
You think you’ve got troubles…
There are some things in life that are inevitable, from the things we need to survive to the ideas that become reality within decades, but what binds us together makes the whole stronger…or so I had come to believe previously. It is not difficult to feel forsaken by the world at large, and to feel infinitely alone through the view of a keyhole, the eyes of the voyeur taking his place. This feeling has come over me, and hasn’t seemed too unreal by my standards, though everyone else would disagree. Descended as never before, through the ecstatic pains of poverty and kind words, and yet I must see this thing to the end of its’ supposed journey. The laws disallow me to sing praises to my fellow human beings because of …
original songcraft by C.Michael Keaton
excerpt; ‘Roses are red, bathed in a pool of blood
blood of a god, your gods above
a cross of red bled into its chest
hole in the head, bleeding out, dead…’
out of Context;
‘Confusion lacks the authority to state any valid word emitting signals from my brain…’