StAnthony
We stamper up hills, climbing.
Faster
Faster
The road takes me higher
The road takes us higher.
We are calling the nature to come forth with us, as we move,
as we express our being.
Regrowth.
Terrified, we struggle.
We give birth in the womb of sorrow
We are emotional, but now is the time for regrowth.
Satire, satire, static
In simplicity we write no more
In simplistic nature , we cry no more
Static cries oh do we live in a world of fear
Or do we swim with our lives
Do we easy or do we die?
Static death
Static life
The two are not different
One must have another
And we must live
Surprised
Broaden your mind fool.
Take the time to broaden your mind and see the other sides of things that you may not have looked into before.
I don't care about spelling. I scare myself when I spell too much, or too little, just the right amount is all I need to be myself. And that's all I need to broaden myself. To be myself is to broaden, to expand, to let go of what conditions I have and to escape into a reality beyond the known, a reality of broadened wings and sky-high loving.
Retreat along the watch tower where there are buttons and scratches and people in locked houses and the bodies and the trains roll up and tied them to their waist coats and nobody wants to go on and retreat, because that's what we run for. We are not trying to be the best but we don't know what the worst is and that's scary. I like to stink in my shoes and let the muse guide me a long the path of tomorrow, retreating after day after noon sir, would you like a party pancake?
Fisherman tied up to the boat
They over throw the waters
They take the waters a shore
Picking up where they left off
The fisherman are super tossed away by the waves of the ocean
They tried to scramble they tried to have devotion
but they've come to far on this wave of a shore and the man in the sea has two bottles of whisky that he's been drinking with a side of life
with a little bit of life held up on the shore
he's got no tomorrow
Sterile, was the flamingo
She had so many people watching her
And all she could do was list off the ways she couldn't do it right.
How she couldn't walk with one whale tail up in the air like the other birds could.
How she couldn't be any colder then her feathers allowed
How she wished she had a fucking twenty two dollar bill so she could fly out of here and dream her days away in Maui
Gold earrings,
She wrapped herself around me in slow motion
Those golden locks
The eyes that could pierce through diamond
On me like a hawk
Still, the only thing I felt was a memory
Of beauty
And the rapture of this moment fell away into a cloud of smoke
Shackled and burnt
She fucked me
Modestly, the mouse took a while to say goodbye to the little train that he had in his eye and he cried, just a little bit, but by the looks of it he couldn't see what he was missing, which was right under his nose. A piece of cheese, a music note in place. That's true, said the blind mice and the men who were modestly unnoticed and disguised as being mice themselves. Man, what a weird world.
Grandfather clock, tick tock
On the wall it wobbles and tobbles
It's my heart beat, like a little kid crying
Telling me to go outside because the day keeps on calling
and wandering by my window
Tick tock patter pock
The grandfather clock mocks my every move
As I lay inside
But in doors it seems to hide
Every emotion that I encounter
Because every time I go by it
The clock is still in the hour
Emperor, is what they called me
And I left it at that
I never took the label to heart, because I felt there was more than that.
In fact I knew it in my bones.
The moving sidewalks beneath my feet couldn't be washed any clearer
The eyes watching my every move never were more dusted.
And there I walked as one of them.
But who I was,
Was the emperor.
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writing since 2013 · 28 entries · 28 days shown up
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the words Anthony reaches for
pinesskyharmtreeslistencompensatewitchescatslightnightnowmindheartnobodymomentearth