Dear world

Written on the day Facebook, Instagram and Whats app went down all day because someone 'leaked' how much they don’t care about anything but making profits- what surprise. 04/10/21 21:41 Monday, my first day at a new job. @currently under freshly washed cotton bedding sheets. Dear world, Tuesday, how the moonlight blurs in the rain, my palm grips a stranger’s, our pulses dance. Imperfect symphonies I can’t contain, this day turns water into a fire’s glance. A turn of body, locks eyes with another, while there’s no way against nature’s exchange. To protest is to deny the summer, bright feelings of frisk, blues and greens ordained. What more could I ask of Tuesday, truly? the evening spoke without flowery words. When did time pass me by so cruelly? unknown scent, julio, you’re fused in my nerves. It’s real, declaration of love to you, brief seasons of touch, like flesh in hot spring. Sincerely, Strange loves

A story of endless questions to likes and dislikes. Written as a declaration of true being.  02/10/2021 13:56 Saturday, leaves turn lilac in nature, winds blow colder than yesterday. @ blue doored house of 26. Dear world, Untamed thoughts, people of immoral hearts, nothing but servants to fleeting passions. To know oneself is to confess its arts, yet branching minds are to protest seasons. Finite days of pretenses what are we to walk by; to love it or to love them? What source of mastery to feed the fury? All, but hopeless points to algorithm. Flawed nature, shall bow to perfect beauty, an unseen craft, yet felt in mountain beams. Wings to bring waters fall up from below, through the wind, I, myself, stand here and truly. If to love is to see cracks in all blow, everyday my road turns a crystal flow. Sincerely, Not chasing waterfalls

Written on a day of seizing and winning, and running, and smiling. 27/09/21 Monday, a 24-hour opportunity to make something @a room, reeking of turpentine from oil painting  Dear world, Luckily for you I’m not solving a problem today with the abstract dialogue of my ‘poems’. They are just incredibly fun to write but I'm hoping that I can still connect my dots with you through them. Today, my problem is something like this: What is a way around insufficiency? I’m currently standing in the middle of the least agreeable part of the month, when the cost of breathing is under my neck. I’m talking about council tax, gas, electricity, water, phone and rent- you name it. I’m an adult at 27 at last- it feels like a scene in those movies labelled ‘based on a real life story’. So I’ll make today my very own adaptation.  The plot: I have less than 4 hours to come up of a sum or I will get thrown out of my house. Although it’s not actually the case, I do need to come up with a sum to pay m...

Written while sharp rays flicker in tangerine, through leaves of autumn spirits. 26/09/21 17:39 Sunday, a day that feels like a road trip in the country. @infront of a 5 feet one glazed window, reflecting moving shadows of a tree Dear world, Paralysis of heart, here comes for lunch, what have we to feast upon this daylight? Storms of flaws, if you may, here strike your punch. For a polar flame will shake or ignite. Follow another’s dance or the latter, what do you breathe? To bear, or to propel? A plate of bittersweet, is yours neither? Known days are rich in fuel or quarrel. Creamed farewell to the sun, or feed a wheel? Blues arching to catch apples or repel. Endless squared days, or swim through cold water, only to hesitate is to protest your exhale. What can mere rain take from a stone walker, when time holds the rail road to reconstruct? Sincerely, A self proclaimed stone  

Written as sunlight rips through noisy glass window, enroute far down the unseen horizon 24/09/21 Friday, summer soon meets the end of pleasure @a place of confident hope Dear world, I, as clay, a carved blossom of A ghost, pose what puzzle is left here to ponder? Its light, bearing godly scenes of the coast, fault unseen in all points of high delight. ‘River river on my ground, who’s fairer, of us all?’ Cries a white swan with all might. Wings without words, seeking to intervene,  for all life placed, bow to find Fairest, dear. Here of numbered days, game of unknown rein, for what grand price are we to run along? A trade of obedience, pays skyline flow, for time here quests for bare feet to belong. And what reap, The glass being, is to sow? His clays to tame lions: all He raptured. Sincerely, A clay taming lions

  Written on a humid summer night of 90% dissatisfaction 22:09 23/09/21 Thursday, almost a full moon, illuminating under thick clouds   @a bed of a stomach aching potato  Dear world, What better thirst can sovereignty be, for want and restraint to coexist thee? To flee its home of solace impulses, as arrogance floats on sinking ripples. Autumn, dear, what power can cold drift bring, sleeping, in narrow hall of iced reason? Souls come and go, the world is a mere treason. Timeless breath, run well before you’re prisoned. there, where rushing scarlet river, is streamed. Where, pumps of freedom dash in space of veins, and daisies spring in concrete starry reins. Beginnings paint stories of mighty tells, yet untouched, beauty, is in oyster shells, Deep in unheard waters, lives one blissed pearl. Sincerely, An aging desire

  Written on a morning of a highly fructose and glucose charged energy system. 23/09/21 Thursday, 17 degrees warm with expected sunset at 18:56 @Facing a plate of tangerine peels and bitten apple core Dear world, Tomorrow meets brooding eyes much closer, than dreams to ever beyond conscious dare. To dream is to fly in between forever, but to sing is to dance for next to hear. To bite a fruit is to rule your efforts, today, dear, your fury never shorts. Mind your gap and eternities suffer, poise is patience, as haughty trees buffer. Silence conquers, now your voice speaks louder, as birds fly in breach of skies past their bear. Smiles hidden deep in blue, for anyone, soaring, up you go, is real as day one. To die, in acting, feeling, failing is, tomorrow’s harvest, grasped in today’s bliss. Sincerely, The happy hour