The birds don’t sing for me The tree doesn’t heed my care I sit and ponder both The view my patio chair The birds don’t sing for me The tree grows its own way The branch is oddly crooked It must have something to say If I draw just what I see, Would you think... Continue Reading →
Think you know my pain Want to give it a name Compare it yours And say we're the same Hold it under a light And tell me it's okay It's perfectly normal We all feel this way My pain has no name It has many sources You won't read about it In psychology... Continue Reading →
On our backs Looking up at the stars You feel overwhelmed Space does that to you "I feel so small." "You're big to me." "I'm a speck. I'm less than a speck." I want to reassure you As gravity holds us to a precious planet The perfect distance from the sun ... Continue Reading →
Alone. Occasionally, unexpectedly, he arrives at a place where he experiences utter joy in his own company. The feeling is both nostalgic and heartwarming. Here, he loses the clatter of noise that fetters him daily. Here he remembers himself, the self that only he truly knows. If he tries to put the feeling into words,... Continue Reading →
Enough, I say Please go away I love you so But what a price I pay I can not endure another word give me the sound Of a chirping bird Or the wind in the trees the waters that flow The sound of a bee humming so low I can not hear Through all... Continue Reading →
All I want for you, is everything. I want you to shed the expectations of everyone who has a role for you, and be who you are. I hope you have a few close friends who can appreciate the beauty of evolution, but if you don't, I hope you are in awe of your own... Continue Reading →
My bed is a raft Afloat on a wide river Meandering between willow trees and cotton puff skies Drifting along, without intent You are by my side The sun warms our skin Our minds at ease We float past an abondoned shack A dwelling of disappointment "Don't be sad," you tell me... Continue Reading →
Nothing good ever occurs to me at four a.m. Bukowski sits in the corner, smoking, mocking me. “You’ve never been ugly and it makes you trite.” “Fuck you Bukowski. Just because you’re mean and ugly, you think that makes you deep?” He does a hand gesture that implies, "possibly". There is a cat sleeping on... Continue Reading →
No words. Not mine anyway, just quotes and images that spoke to me.
db hargis 