Drive to work thoughts

When I was younger, everything
was new.

Living in a city
was new. Finding relationships
was new. Going to work
was new.

But the older
I get,
The more I need
poetry to
make things
new again.

Otherwise, I am on
autopilot various
times per day,
Coasting through
everyday reruns.

Prone to frustration,
irritation and boredom.

It is a poetic mindset
that urges me to
start noticing again,
start finding the newness,
the beauty, the miracle
of being.

 

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The last sunset of summer

A slow breeze
brushes across
my cheek, sways
easily through
many leaves

Summer synonymous
with comfort

Warmth with
moderation, inviting
a couple of layers
or only one — both
will do

Abundant views
that look like paintings:

Bluish mountains revealed
(like magic) when the
clouds vanish midday

Liquid gold peeking
between buildings
obstructed by cranes
at dusk

 

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Seattle summers are delicious.

Don’t let your dreams die in order for mine to live

An accidental poem by Beautiful Life.

The aching
silence

that has
fallen

between us

I’m     falling       into       it.

I might
be lost.

bravely

Outside of Dallas, Texas

An actual definite someone

An accidental poem taken from the prose of Jonathan Franzen.

This wasn’t the person
he’d thought he was,
or would have chosen

to be if he’d been free
to choose, but there
was something

comforting + liberating

about being an actual
definite someone,

rather than a collection
of contradictory
potential someones.

moon

Tiny Moon | Center city, Philadelphia