Pause Applause

Rest Rooming, Photo by BradensEye featuring a top spot by Cannon Beach

Poesy Posse

I’ll swing to you a new frame
of time bent to and fro
Momentums spent chasing mementos
Wishing to be stuffed
bulging at the seams
with those curios that cause us to crave always
Yet, we may hear a sad song
and wind such slutty protesting
Throwing up our pasts all over our presents
Messing things by missing the points
Forgetting to make use of history
Which styles every sort of what to do with scores
and isn’t afraid of unintentional aftermathery
Letting go is our language of outcomes
Lovers married to the magic
before the desire
As wanton resolve is amused by fears
Where I reach to work scattered words into flow
or maybe it’s making genuine from garbled
Emphasis that’s underlined in bold
Electing reflections to kindle
every intersectional aspect
Knowing when nurture has ripened
Lifting me, you, us through swooping slopes of sifting
A pause applause
Needed, repeated, completing
the shift by sifting so well
Lyrics of the good life

Words are our tools of resurrection. ~ Lizzie, The Dictionary of Lost Words by Pip Williams

Ours tend to be occupations of oscillation. A lot of this with a little of that marinating on the side. Sure, many might rather have our plates piled to the sky with the contrast of how we’re presenting. We seem to struggle with helping ourselves to extra servings of what matters mostly to us. It all comes barreling toward that popular premise of promising ourselves to be wedded to intentionality. So, here I go gently pulling you closer to me, wrapping you in a linguistic hug, to utter these sweet everything’s as your loving reminders. That targeting ought to align for y’all regularly. For, it’s not the finish of specific digits that creates the space to gain. Instead, it’s a recurring encore of…