strings

the thing about game players
is they play the same games over and over
plugged minds suffering with hopes for superiority
only follows the same tired patterns and ploys
let me tell you a story
walked on the beach fully amazed
bright kites everywhere
rippling in the wind
what fun! we bought a kite and no
was like dropping your ice cream
watching it melt into the sidewalk cracks
so many realizations
see it all depends on the eye of the storm
how dreams circle to prove tenacity in tightening bands

old men old women old desires
so today is only the weather
clouds rolling up and settled at the same time
wind holds a gray task of foreboding
‘it wasn’t me ‘ i whisper to the coming day
birds go by as light my cigarette
their chirps did not sound like happiness to see the dawn

image

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4 Replies to “strings”

  1. There was a coldness in this piece, both the words and the picture. February is a long month, and I think we all must be sick of the cold by now. I’ve heard people say, “Hate the game, not the player,” but I refuse to give any of the players a free pass and take away their responsibility for their actions. In my opinion, leave the game players to their games, they don’t deserve your attention.

    1. thanks, Dragon …. it does get tiresome, the constant cold and gloom. salt lake used to seem to have more sunny winter days. lots of snow but the storms would rush in and out. but now it’s maybe the pollution or air quality, but cloud cover all the time even if it isn’t raining or snowing. so that sucks, it’s like June gloom in California but all winter long ….

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