04:39

I remember dreams
the dreams they remember me
snapshots of a day gone past
mixed with inflection
of direction
and the greater machine
that presides over us all

I sit there in the classroom
the cold linoleum
beneath my sole
I am here
but Im a million miles away
creative writing
there's nothing creative about this
creative writing comes from experience
comes from living
Living I've done
living I do
I remember when we used to
play in the ditches
pretending we were some astral warriors
protecting our homeland
from the hulking steel beasts
for days into nights we would battle
wage the good war
return home to drink and revel in our honor
speak a good talk
and all that goes with the living
of a warrior in the droves
daylight climbs
into an abyss of what makes us men

I revel in those dreams
that get lost on my tongue
off the brain
on the mind
with this gift we have
with the art of the word
we have cause
because we are obviously
more that what we seem
we are of god and the gods
as I type I stream the stream
I am no one special
I just write of the indescribable
I write what I know in my heart
the pulse of the vein
the vein in my writing


The night envelopes
and comforts

ciao.