DEFLUOUS
Softly flowing down
Like girl’s freshly shampooed hair
falling round her neck
DEFLUOUS
Softly flowing down
Like girl’s freshly shampooed hair
falling round her neck
Old parchment washed clean
With quill, ink and sandcaster
re-used with new words
I sleep east to West
Head is ready for sunrise
Feet rest in the West
Carved stones were sent down
Moses in fit of anger
broke them. Still, rules count!
An old computer
An apple with just one bite
Eden’s garden crashed
Who are we really.
Are we the sum of our thoughts?
Cleaning up my act!
The trouble with most
missionaries is that they
want you to believe
the same as they themselves do.
Believe me it is quite true!
Tearing off the page with my taoism scrawl, this was two pages further on my note-pad;
What fun it would be
if Socrates came to tea.
Questions, more and more
A quick note: I wake up quite often during the night; why I don’t know. But, in order to go back to sleep I count syllables (not sheep). I woke up this morning and my bedside note pad had this scrawled on it like public toilet graffiti.
Speculating on
what is or is not is a
waste of energy
From where I look out
the Universe has no end
it goes on and on
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