desperation sometimes a stone sits heavy
persistent in the deepest well of my gut
its rare
that the right things
the needed things
come from desperate acts so i try
to leave that stone dark and deep
to steep in water left mostly untapped
but still it seeps
pushing weighted and metered
desperate to feel some kind of exhilarated musing lust
for something
anything of a tangible breathtaking heartbreaking rush
desperation sometimes needing the mountains rocky edge
the mesa open space
a sea of poetic humanity
hungry for the staged bright lights of some dramatic well lived life
i must
i want
i know that nothing good ever comes from desperate acts
that only peace of center will guide me to a solution
still the pacing want
pools up
seeps up into the green grass way over there on the other side of not this life
of nowhere in particular memories
a murder of crows can take it all to the sky
take it all scattered to the sky like almost snowy rain to my eyelashes
irrigating the bone dry
stone dry bring green to the waiting open plains of right here and right now.
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