Objects, and the Distance Between Them
Dreams, thoughts, and experiences expressed through poetry and prose
Happy World Poetry Day, everyone. "When It Rains" - Recorded 3/21/2021 - Auroraboros - Objects, and the Distance Between Them When it rains,I can smell it in my heart,Aching now,The end of an era. The music is loud in the car stereo;It does not matter the song,The noise is soothing,Anything to drown out the silence. … Continue reading When It Rains
"You Do Not Need to Smile" - Recorded 1/21/2021 - Auroraboros - Objects, and the Distance Between Them You do not need to smile.You don't need to be okay.You don't need to tell me that you love me.I will love you either way. There is no need to clearthe tears from underneath your eyes,let them … Continue reading You Do Not Need to Smile
"If" - Recorded 2/14/2021 - Auroraboros - Objects, and the Distance Between Them If,on any given day,you could extractall of the emotions,not those which you experienced,but those which you inspired in the lives of others,the small flashes of hope in the eyes of the stranger you smiled at in the supermarket,the withering disappointment and shame … Continue reading If
For you, once more, and forever. đź’™ "A Dirty Sort of Clean" - Recorded 1/9/2021 - Auroraboros - Objects, and the Distance Between Them I have seen…A dirty sort of clean…Paradox? Sure.But I'll take it. "Expect the unexpected." I have seen…Water running over, flowing,Spilling out as these words do now…From my mouth and from my … Continue reading A Dirty Sort of Clean
Greetings, readers and fellow writers. Today, in lieu of a daily poem, I wanted to provide a candid update, as there have been a few changes lately and likely may be more in the coming weeks. As you may have noticed, I have begun to post my daily writing again. I am so glad to … Continue reading Reflection and Updates – December 20, 2020
There is An empty sort of calm That comes on days such as this An awareness That transcends expectations While at the very same time Reaffirming each of them One by one As we age We learn to be alone To hold our own All the while still clinging To that primal urge To be … Continue reading An Empty Sort of Calm
