...is definitely Friday. I have that relaxed feeling, which, if left unchecked, can lead to unproductivity.
Hence this blog post.
So yeah..... I've been writing poems, but I feel bad about publishing them. Its an uneasiness - an exposing of oneself.
A baring of the soul, if you like. A boring soul perhaps, but still.
So here is another one - its probably far too hastily prepared to be of any literary worth. But I'm sure not too many people will actually read it anyway.
[as i see it]
pale blue ceiling
blocks scattered here and there
and beneath the toys, a green carpet
with puddles on the floor.
in a block am i trapped
midst the molecules of today
ultra slow-motion here where i sit
but all is tidied up in an instant.
[In Closing]
Today's word of the day - disheveled - is rather fitting. For me, anyway. (Word of the day now published on the links bar to the left, for those who hadn't already noticed).
