Loose change for reality

My sight is angled diagonally upward.

Behind the figure of a man,

shines an utter contention

in the glare

of sunlight from high above my eyes.

The figure says with a smile

and a book in hand,

"Would this be a good place to read?"

The atmosphere feels so still

like it is a moment to let seep

deep

in the existence

I know as mine.

Questions in the form of answers.

A cobalt blue convertible car sat on the side of the road.

It was but a faraway lone road.

A vast savanna sprawled on the other side

of the road.

Lions and tigers grazed

on the bright yellow grounds

which resembled

the terrain of a desert mountain.

I only looked away for a second.

Before I knew it,

Tex was on the other side

appearing more like a moving dot

with an figure of a dog.

"Look over there",

I was alerted.

only to notice the lion whooshing Tex

high in the air like a tossed ball arching to its receiver.

With a crouched heart,

I watched Tex land right on the ground

next to a tiger.

Still, he was like a moving dot

with the figure of a dog.

"We have to let him go."

as I looked on at the oddly tranquil ruckus

as we watched from afar.

Countdown to bliss

Do I forget to sleep

or

Do I forget to rise?

I rise

for nothing

but

an illusory desire...

so it seems.

For all the desires

that color this world,

nothing remains solid.

If this finds you willing

for such an angle,

it's just a big, beautiful illusion.

Only when we discover the marrow

of this floating mediocrity

in our so-called reality,

comes a waltz of clarity.

Once we depart,

shall they impart.

Then we may understand.

I tell you,

my friend,

fear no more.

Maybe believing in dreams

can take us there now.

So, tell me, friend

what is the harm

in believing...

Believe your dreams

and

I mine.

It's just a matter of time

before they intertwine

and

that we live in universal magic.

Weary like a Log in the Fog

Smeared is my mind

in the name of fatigue.

Fatigue is like a rapist

in the broad daylight.

It robs you of your strength.

Still, something about fatigue

in the daylight,...

a speckle about fatigue,

something like a hint of untouchability.

It leaves you with a dreamy feeling.

who wouldn't want a dreamy feeling

all day long,

all day long,

and then, one can dream all night long.

Not bad a bargain, right.

Just until the first star

meets the falling sky

of the night,

comes the moonlight.

It can't be all so bad.

The waking hour will come,

like a new home.

It becomes,

one star invites others

and constellations form.

Before we know it,

we aren't tired anymore.

A stroke of collectivity.

What can I say now?

No matter how close

I think I am

to an universal truth,

still I am

conveniently reminded

how

I know not a single thing.

Like a bowling ball,

how it will roll

down its alley...

people will tumble as they are.

Eventually,

they will pop as they really are.

All strokes of luck,

you never know what you get.

You buy a caramel candy apple on a stick.

You are left with a stomachache and a stick.

You bump into a mountain lion on a little trek.

You are given a ride to the summit.

You never know what you get.

All I want is the truth.

Is that much to ask for?

Come on out of the thickets.

There is nothing to hide.

It is perfectly healthy

to tell the truth.

All strokes of people,

let's just count on love

and telling your truth.

If it is hiding behind layers.

Peel and weep them away.

It is for the best,

just for the best.

why not?

Have you thanked your feet lately?

For many small and big miracles you have witnessed,

they would not have been if not for your feet.

If you want to scoff at me,

"I see all my miracles in the car."

You still use your feet in the car.

*shrugs*

this is just a tribute to all the walking feet in the world.

By the way,

avoid grass if there's concrete.

Why?

Thriving communities are amidst those little stalks of green.

Nothing to keep

I feel like a watermelon

Not only I coordinate the signature colors

of a watermelon...

I also feel watery

and maybe a little seedy.

My hair is as wired as the magnified scope

of the fruit's cherry-pink region.

So, fruity is my adjective today

only because I feel like a watermelon.