Doppelgänger

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.

Doppelgänger

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&gt;

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&gt;

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&gt;

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