Communicate 

There are times when I need to be alone,

When even the noise of nothing in particular,

By someone very specific,

Which I have come to love ~

Become too loud.

The moments are rare and far between,

But every once in a while,

I need absolute quiet to smile.

We have learned, she and I,

To communicate, and in spite of my need for silence,

We always talk.

Respite comes only after,

And disaster never follows.

So do as she does, and as I do too,

Fear not confrontation,

It can be very good for you.

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Reader’s Greed

Give me something fantastical, epic, and with a hint of strange.

Tell me a story of not only Sword and Sorcery, but of life, love, and everything between.

Show me characters of the fascinating variety, and make me care!

Make my heart bleed and make my eyes water, make my eyebrows rise, and make me smile through laughter.

Satiate my hunger, cater to the passionately curious, and give us new perspectives.

Enlighten me to flaws I didn’t know or realise I had.

But if you only ever do one thing for me, my dearest Genre, Fantasy ~

Tell me a story.

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Too Loud

There is too much noise,

Too much interference.

I can’t hear it at all,

Through all the static.

What’s on my mind, how am I, what am I thinking?

Your guess,

Is as good as mine.

Knowing you, probably better!

I need the isolation, the silence, and the dark,

Not all the time,

But just enough to start.

The words never stop,

But through the static,

I can’t hear them.

They linger,

And demand to be heard.

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Work Work

As Tomorrow declares war,

On the sought-after midnight roost,

I dread the inevitable incursion of Dawn.

But as my alarm rings, and I hit snooze,

For the fifth time ~

I know I should count myself among the fortunate few,

Who are able to count an early day at work,

As the greatest of their tragedies.

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Weary, Dreary, Tired

Stories are for the weary,
exhausted workers,
dreading the dreary everyday rhythm.
Custom made,
for maximised disruption of normality.
Books and moving pictures,
or still-framed narratives,
consumed by properly caffeinated minds.
Why are we hooked on artificial clarity,
and fictitious heroes?
Tired.

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By any other name

One would think that an understanding should have been reached by now.

But then, what is a lifetime in larger scheme of it all?

We are different, them and us…

Yet we cannot seem to figure out, what it is exactly ~

That make them more human.

Is that what we are you and I? Creatures of a different breed?

Or perhaps genetics be damned, ought we look at creed? 

No, for all our differences we are more of the same. 

Why is it so difficult to discard labels, even when they serve no purpose?

Human?

I think not.

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Use Your Words

With every passing moment we write and speak countless words, addressing anyone similarly connected. 

Whether it be through small handheld screens or larger devices, does not matter. 

Every second comes with more, a stream of information that never ends. We have whipped ourselves into a collective frenzy.

And yet, never before have we said so little with so many words. 

We continue, as we always have, down unfamiliar paths. Human curiosity and self-importance has locked our course as surely as any kind of technology could.

All because of the compulsion to walk a path all the way to where it ends. 

Where the rabbit hole leads, only time will tell. 

But of one thing I am sure. We need to speak less, and in doing so say so much more.

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