coolfireblue ~ Friday, June 20, 2025

Solstice ~ June 21st at 02:42 UTC

~ ~ ~

The problem is, most people hate high school
hate the fact they have to grow up and learn
everything before becoming adults

perhaps, I hated it because the cool
rays of sunshine each summer disappear
over the horizon, we watch time burn
burn coolfireblue in our hands as the bolts
lock shut the doors, moments never return
everyone learned and moved on, as I fear
maybe I did not realize the grains

in my hands, of sand, were slipping away
slipping away back then as was my mind

my focus lost from drug abuse, to say
only not as excuse but why the blind
see only coolfireblue, never to mourn
their childhood lost, long gone, long ago past

people move on, they live and thrive, alive
each person, full of excitement and joy
only I was left behind, an outcast
perhaps of my own undoing, my home
life was less than functional, the mind hive
entered my subconscious and left a toy

how puzzled I became as others left
as I stayed coolfireblue under the dome
time never speeds up and never slows down
each day turns into the next, no one stops

high as a kite, I got sober, a frown
in my heart, depression, as each shoe drops
given time, I took control, how bereft
how overwhelming, the weight of the world

suffering from psychological loss
coolfireblue lit the path that I follow
how lost I was and maybe I unfurled
old memories as a quilt, a cat curled
on top, to stay warm, no one gives a toss
leave dead, empty trees behind, so hollow

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Beat the Whites with the Red Wedge ~ Friday, May 30, 2025

Professor Miłosz answered my question reserved with but one word, 'Daimonion' obligations to respond to students forgave him for reflux indigestion ever more witty than a Cheshire cat such a response like peeling an onion strange to hear what inspires a profound sense of history and philosophy, deep rivers flow to offer one time at bat Moments come and evaporate, to seize in my youth the mystery of being łodzianin , The Promised Land , a breeze of less than fresh air blows mortals fleeing socialism into the deepest sleep ziemia obiecana , what does this mean answers in his History unfold time nothing escapes Polish Literature save for the Catastrophe , the unseen wisdom, impossible to grasp, then guides experience through right and wrong, as crime removes the stain of corruption, unsure existentialists adopt Marxism despite the deep divide taking both sides music to post-Stalinist ears, the Thaw yet, thirty-five years later, with the Fall questions of ...
Read more

Know Your Rights: The Future Is Unwritten ~ Friday, June 6, 2025

That the future is happy by design how I wake up each day to language games as if the world were made up, narrative teaches us that language shapes to align this idea with objects of relation how to make sense of the absurd, these names each person identifies with to give foreignness, a sense of distance, not mine undermined by the truth, this blank notion trips me up, shallow graves, and a killer until they speak, what is hidden remains remains, lost to others, like a thriller each moment hangs in the balance, the chains invested equally for scales supine supine plates, on their backs, they rest and wait hold the weight of the world on my shoulders as titanic effort, necessary pertaining to murder to offer bait perhaps to a killer who will not speak yes, the truth is hidden, I push boulders but they fall by the wayside, how scary yes, the future is happy by design despite my efforts, I am up a creek exactly as they say, my paddle gone still, I float, as I am af...
Read more

Detritus ~ Wednesday, June 25, 2025

Instrumental to faith is love and trust       simply put, a lack of either is loss nothing lost, nothing gained, or so they say       obey the rules until business goes bust living is expensive, why not believe       observe the cultural barter of dross visions of success hampered by decay       eternal return of the same, to earn imaginary wreaths is to retrieve       notoriety as a kook, a mind touched by desires and dreams, attached to fire       haunted by attention, the need to bind instruction to the sound of the lyre       slip past celebrity, now, live and learn
Read more