When the wind picks up in a field of wheat, they begin to ripple and shine in the sun
like a monsoon of golden harvest.
What if the fields of wheat dont look like the ocean?
What if the ocean looks like wind caressing the fields.
What if the ocean is being pushed by the breath of mermaids
exhaling when they laugh
and that's what makes waves.
I think it strange how, when a person reaches a certain capacity for pain or time, their soul is released from their body
and everybody around them, or who hears of it, feels sadness.
And it happens 6,316 times
every time a tiny sliver of plastic passes the number 12.
How fantastic is it, that a person can have found the meaning of life
in a chemical released in the greatest computer known to man:
their own brain.
How sometimes they can find it simply by pressing their own lips to someone elses, and staying there in peace for just a moment.
Or making vibrations in the very air that we breath
to soothe our minds or excite us,
and calling it music.
How graceful it is to float in a mixture of hydrogen and oxygen,
but if you stay there too long your soul might accidentally escape your body.
And if you go too long without it, then the same phenomenon would occur.
How mind boggling
that human beings sometimes *accidentally* make more human beings?!
How odd! That we connect threads into pieces of a puzzle that we slip over our heads
to cover up a feeling that we call "shame".
Not a single pair of people see colors quite the same,
those who are color blind just experience this drastically.
Strands of minerals exit our heads
we sleep on beds made from the same miracle that has escaped another kind of animal.
But nothing is very fantastic
once you've existed for a certain amount of time.
How strange.
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More Ryhme des mots
PoetryThe reckless optimist creates sunbeams With Archimedes death rays That they do believe will result in lovely sunsets. (And most everybody burnt to a crisp is not in favor of this method.)
