May My Life Be Boring
May My Life Be Boring
May my life be boring. May I wake in peace, may I feel nothing but gratitude for my existence. May I hear only birdsong, feel the wind in
Jon Collins
Word weaver, song singer, pattern whisperer, baker and candlestick maker.
Empty Pages
Empty Pages
Empty pages
Staring back at me
Leaves in the wind
Catching the breeze
Frozen: a moment in time
Never wanting to forget
The energy spent
An ancient lament
Give me ink
The Other Side
What’s that - And how
They don’t know - You don’t see
Always wrong - Always right
Never show - Never know
Weakness - Weakness
Fear - Dare
Never shed a tear - Never really care
For
The Link
The Link
Waiting, waiting, contemplating
Wasted time is so frustrating
Look as though you’re concentrating
Pretend to work, avoid a slating
Code compiling, line by line
Meanwhile, you’re just passing time
Gathering Dust
Piles of paper gathering dust
No, there’s nothing.
Empty vessels, trussed in wordless ropes
Busted, untrusted, rusting relics
Broken jugs where once clichéd terms
Might have been stored
Might have poured upon