Relative of Bonfires.
Movement in the direction of being refreshed, bright eyes and a bushy tail. These moments the big lamp burns across the lakeshore edges of a best location.These sunsets are familiar, the geography easily pointed to the maps rather colorco-ordinated. Seasons like the road, keep moving around, rock poetry delivered without a mailman, an audience available in individual instances on the electronic highway.
Butterfly moons are daily twists in a scheme to understand themes in the physical reality, passion, a relative of bonfires, traffic lights that never included caution, ashes that had bills attached to them, lost personalities due to routine paper work, now appear daily at the press of a button, height, width, crayola colors, indifferent to these modern day attitudes.
In the sunrise, in the repetitive, the refreshed air cells place all the figurines where they once stood, sat or sallied their way into a gold mine, as there is gold in those throbbing veins.
The heartbeat that its attached to now has a mind of its own, eyes wide open, feeling, breathing, understanding, lining up poetic justice, surrendering to the aging process, writing things heard, painting in random shapes for the freedom of it.
Steve Mladen Renko
rukav1@yahoo.com
Relative of Bonfires.
Movement in the direction of being refreshed, bright eyes and a bushy tail. These moments the big lamp burns across the lakeshore edges of a best location.These sunsets are familiar, the geography easily pointed to the maps rather colorco-ordinated. Seasons like the road, keep moving around, rock poetry delivered without a mailman, an audience available in individual instances on the electronic highway.
Butterfly moons are daily twists in a scheme to understand themes in the physical reality, passion, a relative of bonfires, traffic lights that never included caution, ashes that had bills attached to them, lost personalities due to routine paper work, now appear daily at the press of a button, height, width, crayola colors, indifferent to these modern day attitudes.
In the sunrise, in the repetitive, the refreshed air cells place all the figurines where they once stood, sat or sallied their way into a gold mine, as there is gold in those throbbing veins.
The heartbeat that its attached to now has a mind of its own, eyes wide open, feeling, breathing, understanding, lining up poetic justice, surrendering to the aging process, writing things heard, painting in random shapes for the freedom of it.
Steve Mladen Renko
rukav1@yahoo.com