I wrote another poem, not sure where this is going, I suspect a temporary phase of creativity exploration. I know writing can be more work than this and maybe it shows in the amateur and wince of beginning. It is fun so far. It feels personal and revealing, I don’t mind and hopefully it is less than boring.
Standing on a Tippy Ball
Just on the tippy ball
I felt lost.
Temporary doom or
rather I hadn’t known that
on a wet dark sleepy night
swirling stirfry, tunes playing.
It became a forever moment, slight regret to end a party cooking dinner.
The following day in another form, a physical reminder
I was better before the caffeine, without,
to be now caffeine me.
Removed, reminded by cold, by hot.
The search for the ungraspable puzzle.
Holding a thread, a journey to end
to start anew.
