Hidden Poems

In the Midst…

Skittering scattering
All too real

Focusing Concentrating
All too real

Trippying Trappering
All too real

Rippering Rappering
All too real

Skittering scattering
All too real

Focusing Concentrating
All too real

Trippying Trappering
All too real

Rippering Rappering
All too real

In the Midst… Revised

Skitter Scatter
All too real

Focusing, Concentrating
All too real

Trippy and Trapping
All too real

Ripping and repeating
All too real

Not Yet Named #1

Circling and looping
Confined in a cocoon
Conflicted and constricted
Swirly and blurry
Springing to reality
Glimpsing the truth
Full body shame

The full grown infant
Bursting through the womb
Stretching and ripping
Scrunched into being
Sickened phase completes
A whole new disease remains

Transformed and transcended
Hard to focus
Individually going through every facet
Lungs burn in a single breath

Falling into the land of the sand
Where the misguided, misunderstood rules await
My irrational safety net
Pushing back against the burning glow of the sun
Becoming a fiery ball of my past self
Exploding in the atmosphere

The ash remnants remain
Covering, mixing with the plaster
Masking yourself
Fearing the end game
The steps to get there seem endless
Oddly comforted by each sign
Revealing to be closer than you expected
Your journey to the end

Frightened by the chosen path
Zipping and winding through new lands
Each its own distinct phase
Pursuing its own goal
Laziness, creativity, passion and the pursuit
All driven to the same end

An exit sign appears
Just stopping for a rest
The end still awaits
Needing a dark solitary rejuvenation
Before I shiver back into reality
Ending the charade

Not Yet Named #2

Too many ideas rattle in the cage
Focusing on just one isn’t an option
Hands become shaky
And the past resists
Keeping you stuck
Sticky, dripping mud holds
Sculpting an unwanted desire
Drowning in the uncomforting seas
Waves of insecurity drench your insides
Lathering the uncertainty
Washing away productivity
Revealing the clean truth
Down into the core
Collecting, pulling together
A tight ball of an idea forms
It sits, resting, waiting for change
Waiting to be engaged
Coughing up
Caught in the throat
Ripping and reshaping
Forcing its way out
Ejecting from the soul
Rocketing past the atmosphere
Landing, colonizing new ideas
Still leaving too many to rattle in the cage

Yet to be Named #3

Bugs skitter across the empty floor in my mind
Furry leg creatures across a wide and barren land
Kicking up dust-ball storms
Swirling over the hardwood sand
Methane remnants to fuel the fire
Torching all the hope-trees
Leaving dust and ash
Will anything awaken through a rebirth

Bits and Pieces, but not yet Finished

Lungs rip and tear
Burning with the pleasure of life
Red blood cells devour the Oxygen
Carbon Dioxided are scatty remains
Only conscious enough to leave
Zig-zaged and scattered thoughts

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