DorkMate

Sometimes I see words, at the tip of my fingers, screaming for a better home... But stay, they must, tucked away beneath my fingerprints, suffocating in latex-free gloves... They never rest, when I sleep, they dream, making my hands dance upon invisible paper... Each day they wait, in search of a blue moon, when pen to paper will set them free.

I lost all my words When I fell asleep And the earth began to spin backwards. Time drew back On melancholic memories And none of us could keep watch. The years rush by Through drawn out seconds And through minute hours like mirrored light. The moon still wanes in your absence. The sun still shines while we sleep. And the earth still spins forward when I wake... But patience doesn't wait with me anymore. And I won't wait for patience.

Sooner, For some, Later, We all, Find ourselves, On, Or near, Some plane. Some, The physical... All, The mental... And sooner, For some, Later, We're begged to... Question, We're begging to... Answer, Where the hell am I going?

Once upon a time There was a violet, named Pilot, Who lived on the mountain so high. It was a great mountain called the Mountain of Nye. And there Pilot lived, day to night to day, Living his own life just as he may. Never did he wonder what was here nor there. In fact he was not concerned with much of anywhere. He sat and he sat and sometimes waved in the easterly breeze. Not a care in the world…since it was his world to make as he pleased. Little did he seek to ponder what possibilities there may be. Like maybe the world of peonies that lived across the Hullazoo Sea. Nor of the tiger lilies perched way down below In the vast, vast fie