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A Fools Guide to the World
A Fool's Guide to the World
Waiting on the midway point
In a fool's world on a path of time.
All feelings gone now,
Yet confusion reigns
Under these fallen stars,
Chained in tulips,
Searching for signs of entity
In a pointless landscape
Reviewing a comical myth
Tracking down the morning glow
Walking aimlessly to where I may find unity
From this familiar rollercoaster
Similar cartoons tripping over rocks, rolling, rolling.
On the midway point
Poem for the Poet
Month upon month, glaring into oblivion
Waiting for a spark of innovation
To implant itself
In the soil of thy garden of knowledge
Trash cans crammed with rejected balderdash
Pushed aside, hidden beneath banana skins
Reality TV buzzes in the background
Brain out of tune, imagination stopped in its tracks
Held hostage by continuous writer's block
I sit, overheating in a self-imposed pressure cooker
Shrivelled up muesli, swimming in Rice Dream
The artefacts in my line of sight
Attempting to write a poem tonight.
Softer than air
Lighter than raindrops
Living in dreams
Floating around us
Their message is simple
Their message is love.
Little Car of America
Little Car Of America
Little yellow car with seventeen windows,
Driving up and down the introverted streets,
Stopping when red lights flash.
Built in China,
Driven in the States.
A product of the American dream.
Nine TimesI saw him nine times.
The first time we were both sitting in the room together, getting ready to take the math test that would determine our placement. I was scatterbrained and throwing things around, trying to find the pencils that I had known I would need but had still just tossed in my purse. He was lounging backwards in his chair, looking for all the world as though he didn’t have a single care in the world, including the upcoming test. It annoyed me, that I was frantic and ready to scream, while someone else could be that relaxed.
I tested out of the class.
I don’t know if he did.
The second time I saw him, it was a few months after I arrived on campus. He was the one rushing and frantic this time, running across the square. He was probably late for class, though I had no way of knowing for sure. I was already lost in my own thoughts and ideas, deciding on my major and convincing people that yes, this is what I really want to do with my life. If they weren
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