s c r i b b l i n g

Friday Repost
for my new friends,
a little dig in the
archives for you.
also, today is a
travel day so my
replies will be
delayed until
later tonight. ty.
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scribbling
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images (23)
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i seem
to remember
when i was a kid,
being in my
room

and

laying
on my belly
surrounded by
page after page
of white and
colored
paper.

and

each
of them
filled to the
edges, every
square inch
used up

and

how many
hours i spent
by myself,
so deep
in my

i m a g i n a t i o n

just

s c r i b b l i n g .

and it’s funny,
there was
never
the
fear of
failure then.

because there
was always
another
blank
page

and

if

i

filled up
all the
paper,

ooh!

that
empty wall…
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images (24)

clouds are free

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thCAVN1YTK

and there are days after days when
this gritty world holds so liitle appeal
…to be anyplace, but where i stand

in submerged pain when this history
so swift a snare, in its bear claw trap
jailed in recall…in tragic rerun memory

i tire of these arms, these familiar legs
so weary of this face i already know
and a name, i never asked to own

where do i find this release
where is that, wipe my slate clean
and this shapeless anonymity i need?

it’s weightless that i want to be
to catch a current…to float without fear
follow any breeze because clouds are free

…these clouds i crave

……to be in them

……….to be through them

……………to be of them

to be recognized one minute
and so simply gone the next,
with neither pain nor regret

because it’s weightless, that i want to be
to catch that current, slow floating without fear
and just follow any breeze because clouds are free
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Josie
‘is there a time
to let go of the past
and live for the life
you do not yet know?

let it go, let it go, let it go’
Emer Kenny

harp, dreamy voice, a slow electronica beat
to read by and was written to::::enjoy::::
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