And there was never 20 dollars to pay.
I’m not sure what they mean.
The colorless days are spiked with pepper,
but color is what they need, and there’s a place where feelings rush loudly into my own love.
W(h)ere you there? And if so, did
you stop to sex up the vacuous
robots before losing faith in
everything that was stupid in the
first place?
I’m not sure what it means.
Clouds above me like imagined
acid gumdrops are not there.
Skies can fleece me. Of all
feelings of stymied unwieldiness.
But these days with my back
against the wall always seem
to lead to something better.
It’s the floating, abstractions
that really kill your pe/iace of mind
in the end.
~*~
~KafkA
Graham Smith is a Voluntaryist activist, creator, and peaceful parent residing in Niigata City, Japan. Graham runs the "Voluntary Japan" online initiative with a presence here on Steem, as well as DTube and Twitter. (Hit me up so I can stop talking about myself in the third person!)
A beautifully immersive choice of words my friend .. thank you for the journey ;)
nice one🔥
Awesome poetry as always @kafkanarchy84 ! upped and resteemed !👍👍👍💕😀
Thank you, @karenmckersie.
Beautiful expression of emotions.Yes very right old days are always active as gold to boost up energy. Thanks for sharing such a beautiful poem friend, have a beautiful time ahead.
Peculiar, distantly familiar sentence that made me lol! Like an inside joke from my younger days and It tickles the brain. Read with that Dave Chappelle voice lol
Hahah. Love it.
Very nice poetry..thumbs up to you
Awesome poetry friend and thanks to share it👌👌👌👌
Great one @kafkanarchy84
Such a amazing poetry. God bless you.
do the waitresses there not clear the plates until the end of the meal?
The Joys of concreateとは、どのような意味だろう？と思いました。うまく訳せません。
follow and upvote me.i follow and upvote you