faded dreams (of the weak-week)

A shared glace
Of recognizance
an awkwardness
dance of remembrance (I doubt myself)
the inner critic tells me
to not chance
the opportunity.
“better left to dreams,
than tested by reality”.

I lost my way,
an emptiness searching to be filled
with the shallow acceptance from others,
a job done, out of spite.
sometimes, when we win, we actually lose –
lost chasing imposed dreams, instead of commitment
to things important, to me.
The responsibility of losing,
through another’s eyes, spoken from another’s mouth.

A stroll on streets
not quite known.
All left vague,
except for the granular grit
at my lips.
humbly entertaining,
as the city
wakes from her slumber
Water, buildings, trash,
People.
here, there, it matters not,
as long as I get to that table.-
a chance again
at realizing that dream.

Time is an illusion;
allusions shared of the dumb nothings meant to
daze – of what should I speak, if not shared beliefs
from the future I come,
to share the timeless nature of it all.

Too busy running (after trinkets, fame, prizes)
I don’t notice, it matters not –
what’s done is done
[words have no effect- really and not ideally]
Words can change perceptions,
stories laid on events;
but did it really happen, if everyone says otherways –
Aha!
I’ll know, and that is all I care (of)
[let others do as they please!]

Running up and through,
those church steps slowed opponents;
no etiquette that I shall abide,
for the sake of reverence to traditions long gone.
Acquiescence,
given from my knees, is the offer –
gold is hanging in exchange,
a quick pleasing of others,
it is thought;
a lifetime to remember,
that I did not stand up.

Regret lives forever

it’s corny, but I took this pic four weeks ago, and lo, it fits here, so here it goes
[“Tension is who you think you should be. Relaxation is who you are.”]

[as does glory, integrity, honesty …]

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