Horned rimmed
and tortoiseshell
they rest just left of center
on my nose

and if I ***** my eyes
I can see the bifurcated line
where the focus changes

and it's the same one you
are seeing right now

I miss my mom
my grandmother my grandfather
and my brother

and I'm bracing myself
for the shape of things to come

Whit Howland © 2020

angel crush
into dust

a fallen dream
evaporates

like smoke

the sky wants
to cry but

there are
no more tears

we are all
unborn fruit

dried vines
with nothing

left to give

she had long
dark
metallic looking nails

and black lips on a very
pale face

the clothes too
were designed to make her look
cold and dead

but she was quite lovely
to her new boyfriend, the mortician

She was an artist, she'd told him
And she'd also
told him that she'd like
to learn more about
human anatomy for her drawings

"That one!" she said on
their sixth date in the morgue
"I want that one! Cut his head
open from forehead
to nape. I need to see
how the brain's
kept in there."

He sighed and prepared the
electric saw. There
wasn't much for him
to complain. He'd done
pretty well
at 47, hooking up with this
22-year-old

"I hate lies" it can be heard anywhere
but for me lies are important
If teacher asked to a student about his
Course learnings and due to fear or hesitation He told lessons than his learnings.but if he said teacher must will be ask
So the student will have to learn these incomplete lessons
We know he lied but being free to called lier infront of teacher
and learnt lessons also a plus point for him

It's based on a true story for full story you can visit

"https://openthoughts1-0.blogspot.com/2020/07/i-lied-many-times-but-i-am-not-lier.html?m=1"

I am sure it can change your views on somethings

hummed with the drizzle
sung with the rain
roared with the downpour

He plays himself

With a mask like soaked clay

And faux tears on-command,

All you can do to cope with the hindsight

Is to say you were brave for sticking with it

When you weren't brave enough for the alternative,

Voice like a whisky-croak and words that

Ring of sweet nothings but really mean nothing at all.

Blood on the carpet. Never coming off

And never failing to remind you of what you did and didn't

do wrong.

You figured you'd make boredom into something

Less important but the meaning of any philosophy

Is dependant on the day and the weight of the past it carries--

**** it

Bassline stranded on the boderline, that is to say

Stuck and unfixable. That's part of growing, right?

Dealing with it and moving on, forming a character

From a tortuous pantomine; doing the impossible in

Ameliorating light strictly with the tools given to you

by the dark room you were raised in. Rise or sink.

It was out of your hands, your actions moving forward

Is all that has to matter now.

Just hold on until tomorrow.

I’m not quite sure what i should do.
I guess I’ll just lay here and wait for a storm
To pick me up and carry me away.
Maybe to the ocean?
We’ll sea.

If I’m drifting around, struggling to coast to a coast.
Will you send me a message in a bottle?
Not a map, just some encouraging words.

If you figure it out, please tell me before you tell everyone.
The weight of the world won’t wait.
An endless possibilty is a constraint.

There might be fire in my dragon eyes,
But it clouds my vision
With the smoke of an abandoned factory.
I’m seeing into the past
With restoration to when we thought this boom would last.
Success did not **** the life out of you,
You spit it out.
Ungrateful.

I said if you figured it out, please tell me before everyone.
That was supposed to be half the fun.
I’m not sure of the shore anymore.