The Apathetic Enthusiast

Words without Me

Month: March, 2014

Not Saying Anything at All

April 10-14 151

             Hiding in silence
                       Peace in the quiet
                              Leaving all well enough alone 
             Moonlight on water
                       Lamp light on streets
                               Cold air can freeze time too 
             Waiting in secret
                       While all the rest sleeps 
                               Relieved to finally be    
                                                      Exempt
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I The Stranger

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              Today, I forgot myself. 
              When I woke up, I just left memories behind. 
              I saw them on my pillow as I went to leave, 
              but I couldn't remember what they were for, 
              or why I would need them, so I carried on 
              getting ready for the day without them.
              I went about my business without a worry. 
              Not much to mention in events, 
              but I think I learned a lot, about an everyday. 
              In some ways, it was the best day ever.
              And,
              By the time I made my way home, 
              the moon was out in full force. 
              Bright as anything and washing the clouds in silver. 
      A beauty of a sight. 
              I couldn't remember 
                         ever seeing 
                              something so 
                                        lovely.

The First Day

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                   Hitchhiking Hippies 
                   Shrinking dandylion crowns
                   Wind knotting wild hair

                   Peace signs thrown from car windows
                   Lost scarves on fences 
                   Carefree catches in the heat

                   Painted toes no shoes
                   Hundred dollar sundresses
                   And second hand hats

                   Town to bush and streets to sand
                   Spots for cloud watching
                   Seats for cold beer and burnt meat 

                   Water fights on decks
                   Lawn mowers echo of hills
                   Strangers share the sun 

                   Until the last day
                   When its too cold for those things
                   And the rain is back

Closed Tracks

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            Walking on trees
            Reminds me
            That I take light heartedness seriously
            Sarcastic with reality
            The storm pulls the pines down vertically 
            Soiled hands hold torn roots ceremonially
            This is a graveyard playground of balancing tom foolery
            Laughing in high winds on lost limbs precariously 
            I make the most of this tragedy with sombre mockery
            Tomorrows chainsaws will come with no sense of sympathy
            I can only take dirt home with me