July 25, 2017
He does not know it
But even in his abscence
He remains my muse
Waxing poetic on thoughts, theory & the times
July 25, 2017
He does not know it
But even in his abscence
He remains my muse
July 25, 2017
Acknowledging the things
one might ache for
or ward against,
detaching enough
to see that want
and, or aversion
was destroying any chance
at tranquility,
realizing acceptance,
when it delicately settles
on the apex between extremes,
as peace
July 26, 2017
Cushion of soft, warm grass underfoot,
Fiery lick of sun upon skin,
Subtle scent of windblown fields,
Wind whispers through forest greens,
Distant roar of running motors,
Background chirp of busied birds,
And the vocal squeak and groan of children’s swings,
She vicariously relives
forgotten childhood memories,
Via her daughter’s green gaze
Of a midsummer wonderland
Written by Jacob Ibrag ‘Why do you, why write everyday?’ He asked as she exhaled voluntary. ‘For the same reason you breathe. If I stop, I cease to be.’ Photographer Unknown
July 23, 2017
Divisive relations
Separate,
Fracture limbs
Crack,
Heal, scar,
lesions remain,
form mangled knots
All born
Of the same root
July 24, 2017
Young sprouts
Tangle,
Engage,
Merging tales
Threading,
Through the ground
together,
Yet set apart,
Reaching up
At differing points
Finding own identities
As limbs branch
From the trunk,
Sourced by the same roots