The Adventure
Dreaming Means Flowing Away

Stare into the beyond,
See nothing but stars.
Stare into the sun,
See nothing but the passion you lost.

Fall into a lap,
Then Realize your love is not there.
Stand back up,
Then Realize you’ve got far to go.

Float into the abyss,
Hope that it won’t be so lonely.
Take a path that proves arduous,
Then flow away into a darkness.

When you find the light,
You will finally wake up.
When the light brightens,
You will realize you haven’t been alone.

Let’s Explore.
Anyone want to talk?

IN THE KITCHEN OF A MOTHER

The stove burns hot.
The pan sizzles.
A heavy sigh is heard.
A mother cooks.

The plants and flowers,
Begin to whither.
All of the green,
No longer with us.

A friend approaches,
"Are you okay?"
A mother works her life away.
Her friend is saddened from what she sees.

The food is ready.
The golden flame dims.
She passes plates and simply waits,
Just to hear, “Thank You”

A POETIC MONOLOGUE (FROM THE PERSPECTIVE OF A KIWI BIRD)

I’ve been called a weird little bird,
I try and try but I can’t seem to fly.
I just roll around and climb;
man I really am weird.

My friends seem to go away often.
So I became a lonely little Kiwi.
My friends used to lay big eggs.
But I can’t remember what eggs even look like.

I’m out here looking for a gal,
One beak at a time I search,
But I’m having trouble finding her.
I’m sure my little love will roll on by.

One day we won’t be here.
One day we’ll be forgotten.
We’ll just be thought of as some fruit.
But heck I’m just a lonely Kiwi.

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I Wish It Didn’t Still Hurt After All This Time
A FICTIONAL MONOLOGUE (FROM A FEMALE PERSPECTIVE)

I really don’t know what I’m doing sometimes. My father never approves. My Mother just listens to him; I couldn’t imagine the results if she didn’t. I’m telling him that I work an honest living because he can’t know the truth. It’s a rush; when my picture is taken, when I feel the flash on my naked skin. I feel beautiful; the people tell me I am beautiful, but they want more. Just like my father, they always want more. So what do I do now? I’m no longer feeling beautiful because I’m not the only one here. It’s no longer that flash I feel on my skin. But it’s too late. I’m here, they’re watching, I have now way out.