Reality is funded by a busy dreaming system’s meltdown.

chadwickchadwick Posts: 21,157
edited December 2008 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art
Let go root bound thoughts.
Take yourself
away from me.
Leave me be.
Remove your claws
from my mind.
Destroy the soil
I grow.
Doorways, doorways.
Open floors closed counting doors.
Instantaneous is air.
Breathe.
for poetry through the ceiling. ISBN: 1 4241 8840 7

"Hear me, my chiefs!
I am tired; my heart is
sick and sad. From where
the sun stands I will fight
no more forever."

Chief Joseph - Nez Perce
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