A Penny For Your Thoughts

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Abstract

dicted perhaps to the “penny for your thoughts” operating model of this platform. This will be filed under “Screams of Conciseness”The poem does not come for if it did I would have to acknowledge that I have not a capacity to expand loveThe poem will not whisper in my heart run down my arms to the digital light I do not understand but value none the less. but it is dying, clogged by too many desperate veins of thought left in 1/0 0/1 combinations I do not comprehendThe poem will not come because I can not speak of xo xo that leaves me out that swirls in every form around me but the One I want-Johnny Boy where are you?The poem stuck at the gate where I witnessed the light became a man and the light that was a man burn through my being. From ashes to ashes I drift on the windseeking

Options

to reassemble through rhythm, and prose the poem will not come the words don’t form a shape I can mold and play with the vision is not seeable, not a glimmer, no light at tunnels endwalk the path say you all, expand your heart I hear you calling But try as I may, and wish as I might, the stars do not align for me and love expanding, petulant child that I am I want what I want, as I want it, nothing less and nothing moreI see the words spilled on the page, I once described as blue ink tears I see an expansion, a form building itself along the way, I feel a deeper inhale of breath as I press down each key, stroke each phrase, delete, backspaceIt is the sharing, the submitting, the stories tossed to the internet winds the pennies for my thoughts expanding my capacity to feel and love and be exactly me.</article></body>

Day 24: A path of loving expansion

reflection: perhaps if I write the reflection first the poem will come. I saw the topic two days ago and thought Yay, piece of cake and Yay a happy one. I have walked so many dark roads of late responding to these challenges. Digging through the archives of 50 plus years of writing trying to refresh, write new, be interesting, truthful… I am exhausted and exhilarated in the same moment. And a little addicted perhaps to the “penny for your thoughts” operating model of this platform. This will be filed under “Screams of Conciseness”

The poem does not come for if it did I would have to acknowledge that I have not a capacity to expand love

The poem will not whisper in my heart run down my arms to the digital light I do not understand but value none the less. but it is dying, clogged by too many desperate veins of thought left in 1/0 0/1 combinations I do not comprehend

The poem will not come because I can not speak of xo xo that leaves me out that swirls in every form around me but the One I want-Johnny Boy where are you?

The poem stuck at the gate where I witnessed the light became a man and the light that was a man burn through my being. From ashes to ashes I drift on the wind

seeking to reassemble through rhythm, and prose the poem will not come the words don’t form a shape I can mold and play with the vision is not seeable, not a glimmer, no light at tunnels end

walk the path say you all, expand your heart I hear you calling But try as I may, and wish as I might, the stars do not align for me and love expanding, petulant child that I am I want what I want, as I want it, nothing less and nothing more

I see the words spilled on the page, I once described as blue ink tears I see an expansion, a form building itself along the way, I feel a deeper inhale of breath as I press down each key, stroke each phrase, delete, backspace

It is the sharing, the submitting, the stories tossed to the internet winds the pennies for my thoughts expanding my capacity to feel and love and be exactly me.