Poem of the Day — Falling Star

Been a while, back on the poems and writing after hanging exhibition thank you

Falling Star
Spilling in blankets of clouds, gasses locked in lights time

My belly aches with a plummeting effort; a player in penury

In June I stumble in dust covered cupboards

Resending a forgotten message

To a lost beholder, an age old soul alpha trickster

The rich man who wrecked the buildings

He is satisfying an age old plan to run the world from one perspective

Farm all of us to suit a function; automotons don’t need to be built

They are already existing in complaining

Staining the opaque genius of living

The momentous revisiting of presence

Hovering in the mist of vagrant conciousness, just drifting from decision to decision

No one has the right to land on reason

A changeable and windswept beach a drift with the broken wood of wrecked minds

Just lets leave it all behind

For the others

The ones who are coming to clear up

No more strength in arguing

Lets go to the next one

Patrick Turner-Lee Copyright June 10th 2015`

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