Attitude

This work ethic is work
It is not play,
Play is different.
It resides on the same plane,
But is a different vein.
Attitude relates the two;
Notions of good and well,
Interested
And seeing life
From a perspective of fun.

Work ethic is motivated
Play is motivated
Peace must also be motivated
So that we can find
Within our depths
The actions to take.

Each state of being
Has the possibility
Of infinite attitudes.
Each attitude
Can be applied
To each action.
Actions and state of beings
Are choices on the same plane,
Choices that each take motivation.
Attitude chosen for one
Can easily be the attitude
Chosen for another action.

Lost Connections (day 1246)

I start finding lost connections
About gurgling waves
Lapping around poles and
Sheet metal, breaking
The X – Y plane
With flashes of memories
That thunder through my hull.
I recognize a lost connection
As rusting red leaves mixed with
Rubber ducky yellows
Spin their way along the Y-axis,
Dancing nimbly with warm arms
Of X and Z stitches.
Lost connections break my conscience
With each dead 3 pronged plugin,
With each false hope of recharge.
But each diagonal floats on by,
Twisting like an unbroken chain of genes
Through my alert moments
Realizing it’s not the destination,
It’s the journey in the end.

Chocolate (day 588)

Chocolate spills off the edges of her mouth as if caught in the middle of some kind of erotic foreplay, struggling with the sloppy moments of recollections that pass through ones mind when stuck in a flashback.

Kisses blow around here, with their golden moments smothered in little murmurs and subtle tones of that which is familiar, or at least should be to those passionately inclined.

Pinstripes chalk the walls with character, allowing the vertically inclined to search the walls out in a practical dance that leaves them solving world mysteries that have been long forgotten or strewn aside as if left to the unexplainable.

Signatures full of rabbits come to life, animating this dreamspace with cuteness and emotion, my own hairline rolls and stretches in a sick game of character defining backgammon. This leaves me rolling the dice, asking the elders what their secrets are.

Idea. An idea. One idea reverberates off the walls, bending and warping the pinstripes and smudging the chocolate into the back pages of my conscience. I allow it to linger here while I hash out the logistics.

Booking the next plane ticket the action unfolds, the plan begins it’s course and the erotic foreplay dances it’s way into the shower to clean up its rep. It is now that the flashbacks come stronger as the future becomes clearer.