One day you’ll tell

About everything you could ever want to tale
Of a lost past; days that never went so well
About dreary paths that made me so pale
Of the vast travels, leave nothing out I beg
About the faces: places and facets of the trail
We’ve journeyed near and far; ever on tread.

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Beleive me, never say never ever…

Shouldn’t have life been spelled treadmill?
And wouldn’t it stop the wheel?
My guess, NO; spinning’s the drill.
Time turns, mind churns, at will

Watching time’s chiming; a writer’s thrill
Writing on ticking builds the skill
Calm, pause pulses; make the kill…
In silent shrines on minting hill


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Brainless Cleanse

How often do you cleanse — the thought clogs?

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What else to do?

Now is before not yet gone

kuoobiediaries’ six words

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