My mirror sees you perfectly.
Others see me as crazy
You move the opposite as me
Gazes from similar eyes
Setting up The other side
I have no mind like yours
But believe in your intention
The mention of you shakes me
I lie about you in the mirror
Surely your legs work like mine
There are times I’m told
Your not yourself and I know
Whom they speak of then
I get tricked by your smile
But soon the world will know
My doppelgänger, isn’t me.
daily post
daily prompt
Archaic
When did I age?
My thougts creek like a floor
My viewpoints have become new again
The left is now right
Mysteries are only beliefs
Technology has become magic
Magic a sleazy sideshow on TV
its not that I’m old
In So far from being new
Archaic
Disappearing
Fading memories
That’s where we lived
Loss only counts in ones
Lingering is all hope does
It toys with belief
It ignores possibilities
Somehow we end up here
No-one did anything to get here
Which is how everything happens
A ghost of yesterday
Disappearing into tomorrow
<a href="https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/disappear/">Disappear</a>
Awkward Dream
I pull into the drug store parking lot. The drab brick building with giant windows far to high up to actually see in or out of. I notice a few brief and tan snakes. Then a few more. Behind the building the sea had risen into the edge ood the parking area. Upon its muddy waters ride more snakes.
I marvel at the sole figure outside. He is picking up said snakes by the head and throwing them back out to sea. His dedication to the cause far outweighing the results.
The sky rather overcast helps darken the scene of these legless beasts arriving upon these shores. I fancy the place of such large gatherings of snakes in tropical places. A lush white sand, being lapped by turquoise waters. Maybe a nice Pineapple Sangria in my hand.
Then it hits me, the guy is Scott! Which means nothing to me.
Then the alarm awakens me.
What an awkward dream.
<a href="Awkward“><a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/awkward/”>Awkward</a>
Infected
A bead of sweat
A pulse just a bit raised
I hide my symptoms
The look over the shoulder
The constant feeling of missing
I can not shake them
My eyes rip apart scenery
I’m searching but unaware
My condition grows dire
My heart now beats fast
The sweat draws friends
Still I can not see it
How you infected me
<a href="https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/infect/">Infect</a>
Forest
Path leads into the shadow
Sunlight streams in distance
Radiant beams glisten outlines
Fresh breath of Earth wafts by
Birds shattered quiet
Boundaries crossed suddenly
Noises drowned as leaves dance
Tiny feet scratch at the litter
Streaks of grey and brown
The tinyness of a big world
Voices get swallowed by nature
Eyes grow wide taking in peace
Once inside the outside world fades
Surrender to calm and tranquility
<a href="https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/forest/">Forest</a>
Pale Quartet
My demons don’t ride houses
Greed takes its sweet time to arrive
Anger glides on bolts of lightning
Fear slinks about in the shadows
Apathy must drag itself upon thorns
The quartet move me with the wind
The four horsemen need not humans
<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/quartet/”>Quartet</a>
Evoking Memories
A latent thought evokes a memory
Pieces of mental mist combine
Their form abstract concrete
Yesterday’s stare back at me
Their eyes radiate like a kaleidoscope
Dancing lights reveal answers
Their questions long lost in time
I long to draw them into my mind
Consciousness doesn’t quell unrest
What did I miss only lingers on
<a href="https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/evoke/">Evoke</a>
Carved
What material is one carved?
Flimsy clumps or rigid stone
Upon whose hand creates an image
Or does the image guide the hand?
Does the path carve the being?
Like a river chewing at land
Maybe wind and ice digging canyons
Are we the leftovers or the soul?
Is the space what we fill?
Or are we what remains?
Why did they carve us to begin with
<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/carve/”>Carve</a>
Almost
Almost has a sister named if. The pair of little monsters run around teasing the world. As only the six to eight year old can understand, they mean not the harm they cause.
They play tag with the unsuspecting. A glimpse of her curling hair, maybe a thought of what color his ball cap was remains with you. Your thoughts jump the rail like a commuter train on the evening news. You are left bewildered to what happened. But as it was nothing really. It disappears into ether.
If has a brother, and he’s right outside your door. The chill of a sudden breeze. The flash of light off in the distance. He’s there waiting. And you can think about what it was… Almost
Coloring Outside the Lines 