Rewind | Backyard

So I was lying on the grass in my backyard
Looking at the typical bright blue springish sky
Feeling the hundreds of little poking green blades
Smelling the slightly perplexing mix of the neighbours' hamburgers and lilacs
Trying not to think about all the little bugs I was possibly squishing
Listening to cars pass on the road with all their little screeches and squeaks
Letting myself be microwaved by the sun
And somehow, it was one of the best moments ever.
Because nothing was expected of me
And I didn't have to fight for anything
And existing was easy
And I didn't need a reason for everything, it just was.
And I was happy for no reason--or maybe without needing to look for a reason.
And I could just lie there and write a lame little poem-like thing that had no rhythm or rhyme or complexity, and be ok with that.

Epanaphora | Riddle me this

I am a drop of liquid sky

I am the child asking why

I am the secret dreams held dear

I am the ever-present fear

I am a shadow in the dark

I am the unforgiving spark

I am the new-born baby's breath

I am the sigh released at death

I am a voice that screams alone

I am the crunch of breaking bone

I am the silence in the storm

I am the passion with no form

I am a ray of burning sun

I am the fully loaded gun

I am the fire in the smoke

I am the cynic's only hope

I am a voice from ages past

I am the proof that something lasts

Pantoum | Adam and Eve

Repeat the whispered phrases

Listen for the sound

For we cannot forget the reasons

And He may come around

Listen for the sound

It's the only way to hear

And He may come around

But the end is very near

It's the only way to hear

And we both want to forget

But the end is very near

We just haven't seen it yet

And we both want to forget

Why we're hiding in these trees

But we've fallen to our knees

Because we know that we're to blame

In our guilt and in our shame

We set the precedent

Because we know that we're to blame

We make our arguments

We set the precedent

For we cannot forget the reasons

We make our arguments

Repeat the whispered phrases

Life is...

Life is a search for the indefinable

Concrete illusions and abstract reality

Ironic and fabricated truths

Interpretations of the smallest gestures

Music

The quest for a worthy and appreciative audience

Fearful spontaneity

The gain and loss and mystery of what love might be

The melting sunset--scheduled magic

Simplicity

Long car rides with the radio on

Pennies on the ground

Mirrors, and other non-reflections

Uneven fence posts

Chalk drawings on the sidewalk

Watching people watch people

Intellectual emotion

Crayon drawings in primary colours

Hugs and hard punches

Paper crowns

Pretending to be invisible

Dreams and nightmares

Safety scissors

Laughter

Those moments when your soul breathes

Dancing in the rain

Pretending

Photographs, in all their lies

The smell of new-born puppies

Never-ending questions

The unknown in white envelopes

Glances and down-turned eyes

Dirt

Late night conversations

The shadows of what might have been

Conformed uniqueness

Predestined free will...or something like that

Cold pink lemonade

So much more than could ever be obtained by effort

Learning to unlearn

Mountains and oceans and forests and fields

Crude beauty

Charcoal sketches of a technicolour hallucination

Potential