The way you explained each point with necessary details and maintained good balance between theory and practice is really commendable. Thanks a bunch for sharing.
Rahmat Ullah Malik
I really relate to those who cannot find a parking space in busy car parks because it feels as though it is a metaphor for my life. Constantly attempting to find a space and sometimes its just a small car parked where I thought there was a gap for me to park my hopes and dreams.
K Dale
A clock ticking,
Spelling out the seconds in silence,
Our bodies being swallowed by the plush sofa,
Polar ends, feet on the fabric, eyes everywhere
But meeting.
It used to be filled
With books,
Crafts,
Sounds,
Lost bits of popcorn,
Suffocating blankets with a corner
Sticking out between cushions,
A hand reaching out of a chasm.
A word on deaf ears,
A little offering of self,
Sinks underneath the seat like loose change.
The stuffing exposed under frayed threads,
I don’t know a thing
Anymore.
“Can’t get right if you can’t relate…”
Is this the way you intend to reach me?
Fetch me.
Take me out for a drive?
Go crusin’?
The language is to isolate. But where is the connection? The seed you plant fails to germinate. God only knows I’m a silly mammal. Not a vegetable. Not a mineral.
The way you explained each point with necessary details and maintained good balance between theory and practice is really commendable. Thanks a bunch for sharing.
I really relate to those who cannot find a parking space in busy car parks because it feels as though it is a metaphor for my life. Constantly attempting to find a space and sometimes its just a small car parked where I thought there was a gap for me to park my hopes and dreams.
A clock ticking,
Spelling out the seconds in silence,
Our bodies being swallowed by the plush sofa,
Polar ends, feet on the fabric, eyes everywhere
But meeting.
It used to be filled
With books,
Crafts,
Sounds,
Lost bits of popcorn,
Suffocating blankets with a corner
Sticking out between cushions,
A hand reaching out of a chasm.
A word on deaf ears,
A little offering of self,
Sinks underneath the seat like loose change.
The stuffing exposed under frayed threads,
I don’t know a thing
Anymore.
relate
I late
you late
it’s late
relate…
can you dig it?
“Can’t get right if you can’t relate…”
Is this the way you intend to reach me?
Fetch me.
Take me out for a drive?
Go crusin’?
The language is to isolate. But where is the connection? The seed you plant fails to germinate. God only knows I’m a silly mammal. Not a vegetable. Not a mineral.