Floating plushie

I walk among the fibres of my memories, gently picking up the remains of a human touch, a glance that too-often-happened, an imagined discussion that raised an eyebrow when the wind blew my mind, a replayed event that played its role once and for all (...) Photo by Alex Lion on Unsplash Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

To Hub Saying goodbye when I wasn't there but I was can be the hardest what would I say: "You couldn't have chosen a more beautiful day to go," I found myself saying towards the end of it, just because I'm assuming you'd continue to enjoy everything over there. It wasn't the same for Mom, I remember - the world stopped, literally stopped, connections dropped for a good few hours, just because they...

Life ends and be- gins — each time — You love again Daisy whispers He loves me not Dandelions trust the sky to fall Their heads — The yellow sun. Spring blooms, winds; it scattered. In quest for time You have the margins ( in the words of Danny Gregory) Old, fuzzy TV Got character High Definition — platitude A loose strand of hair Stroking — the strong wind https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2VhgA3PE...

(...) Adapting the coloured trend to every style sandwiched between flash-like memories, polaroid meteors on the visual map and rhythms, green themselves, and the sunsets as real as a drop of water dripping off the coat of a human being returning home after riding the rain, for the rain. Tangible pauses, sandwiched between action and no-action No prediction will ever tell you what is to come. You...

Women are even more beautiful as they age because on their faces and bodies, but especially in their hearts, all the flowers of the world are pressed into...aging. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

I was moving through time as if I didn't exist While space reminded me of the record I am Grabbing me tightly, dancing me backwards Into lights and darks Photo: https://www.freepik.com/free-vector/flat-design-fairy-silhouette-illustration_28451739.htm#fromView=search&page=1&position=47&uuid=2958f8cf-f8f2-40b0-9660-8ce83857f9e8&query=Human+free Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy...

For all the people who are on the night train alone thinking about the beauty of the world - lonesome reflection For all the flowers that bloom after long winters For all the unsung heroes who were once villains For all the mistiest of souls who were once lost but now found For all the bloodshot nights and days that go untouched by love For all the cowards that will brave the fear For all the boys...

I was asked if I missed or healed from missing my mom First of all, she is not dead in the sense most of us understand death Second of all, you cannot escape the most human example of being a human: miss, love, miss, miss love - to the extent of not coming across it. It's very human to be able to miss the one person that gave you life and light and love and would love unconditionally, the best she...

(...) in a beguiling sentiment that, as part of the lifecloth, in the most inhumanely humane way, almost undivinely divine, it is worth understanding: when life leaves the body, the prominent feeling is not of absence but of presence Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Light green replaced by dark green  after a few steps in time Moses has taken. His return - she following suit, in his footsteps, going a little further, with confidence - the lightness in the younger age would give, in the wonders, in the makings. 'Miss, do you miss...it?' 'The more you give, the less you take' 'Should this be a fair deal?' 'Cast-waiting as in cast-shadow' For years, not lig...

The lambs are dancing while rolling rocks on the shoulders of the hills They are singing while spitting salt on the bottom of the sea (...) they are dancing and in this dance there's us ... ... ... .. ... . ... ... .. ... ... .... .... ... ............... ... singing Liam Read's Photo on Unsplash https://unsplash.com/@liamread Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

HUMAN CONDITION They call it a heart.  I call it the lack of it. (...) Your baby's hair grows. short  Of ages of desire,  Of the beat of innocence, of the last touch of candour. It grows. (...) Photo: freepik.com Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Spare the sun the view it has on trees Barks that you peel as you'd like to get it why they don't complain (as we do when skin peels softly into ages of beauty unsure if only young age you'd call beauty) when their bodies fall to ground, to die, already dead or just moving into another state the micro universe feeds on (...) Photo: personal archive Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for m...

Old her crammed into her vanities slipping her hands into time's pockets. This pocket having as big events as chasing eclipses on a starry sky, or vice versa. Verse in, vice out. The pat on the shoulder from the child they used to be, a peek-a-boo kind of sign, with a grin on those small, freckled faces reliving it once again in wrinkled memories suffering from not finding the fair share between t...

A Man of Halves (Canibalove) He bites off the whole of her as if she was no half He eats her entirely as if she were no half It sounds terrible though it isn't It is a story where in order to exist you have to CANIBALOVE As that is the highest form of love: There is no half way to hell or heaven (...) Photo: personal archive Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

(...) Not until neighing has become the voice of nature in the barking of the dogs, chirping of the birds and scattering of the wind Not until you've admitted wholeheartedly Not until you've disgraced yourself that you've been graced (...) Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

that's why dreams are...instead of dreaming of being who you're not, be you. Someone is taking a picture of you Of you next to a king and his queen Maybe it's you taking night snap shots while dreaming of becoming You. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

This horse has only one master This master has only one horse They brush the skin off of each other and eat its pores into the undulating Nature - closing the eyes, everything a Gaussian distribution - they never ride away with or eat it off - an entirely different story: as they inhabit dreams as they ride the waves of fortune or misfortune, not knowing to tell one apart from the other as they su...

Round us to the shape of the womb To the cry it bestows on humanity as if the mouth of the tomb was birthing light where the dark past of unrepented faults infused into the soft, fluid form of the body and soul was glowing its contrary layers into youngsters, the mature and the old. Natural filters. And whether you fill or you(only) feel the existence of past experiences the three folds on the swi...

These pines will never fall towering over unkind buzzes of cars and people all together as they swing from side to side teased but not humbled by the wind: they own this - heads raised between the ground and the sky they can afford to differentiate themselves from humans (...) Photo credits: personal archive Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

She doesn't push for the future. She's been waiting. God has found a nest in her. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Before they started devouring as we know they have. (...) then sacred consciousness you're left with as you weep like a prophet (...) Photo credits: My sister's photo from her personal archive Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

there's something impossible in every fine line of her body as age takes its toll and rests on the only bone that unites the sky and the earth. Photo credits: https://depositphotos.com/photos/impossible.html?qview=13666763 Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

A door opens another while another door closes another window that opens a window that closes. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

"Tell me, A.G.!" "Why is it that your shoes crushed the ants?" "Do you hope to get seen someday?" He did not answer. A wry smile lit up his face as he went up to her... Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.