sweat drips down
stiff upper
lip,
till salt licks my
tongue
heat won’t
quit,
but i shan’t
admit,
it’s no loner
fun..
in
the sun.
hands in the garden
reflection + romance + release
sweat drips down
stiff upper
lip,
till salt licks my
tongue
heat won’t
quit,
but i shan’t
admit,
it’s no loner
fun..
in
the sun.
hands in the garden 
Ra is tired;
His eyes are heavy
He has played his pot
And now work beckons.
He Carrie’s the sun
He knows the truth of the orb
He tells no one these things
No one cares to know no one is free.
Well versed, my friend!
Thank you very much, I read your poems every time you publish one.
Thanks for lending your eyes to my poems. No idea where most of them come from, and I am glad to hear you get something out of them. 🙂
Quite a bit actually, spend a lot of time alone, and a lot of time thinking, and once you get the brain working in line with your memories, things just really start to take on deeper meaning.
I hear that. I am living a life in drastic transition which much solitude and find similar. All the best!
Yes…have not really spoken to anyone in years. It’s a tragic story I am putting behind me; with some actions taken on their part, however.