We are all slaves
Taken apart
by the time
we live in
~
you can step on me
as a slave
but your freedom
to hurt me
guides me
~
shows me an other way
into you
Day 1801, slave revolt.
Daily picture, PoetryPoetry
Day 1800, the right tool.
Daily picture, Poetry
I have to treat you
when you surface
differently
~
when you’re in the corner
or stretched out
unevenly
~
either way
I have to be sharp
and treat you
your excess
Day 1799, small.
Daily picture, Poetry
I only see the shadow
in front of me
of the door
I stand in
and half opened
~
is it because I feel
so small
~
or because the door
feels
so big
Day 1798, corrugated.
Daily picture, Poetry
I saw these two hand prints
in the dust
touching
the corrugated glass
~
I wondered if it was you
and me
trying to feel
you
~
or did you never touched
what us divides
while I waited
Day 1797, open up.
Daily picture, Poetry
It seems that I can only open up
these windows
all at once
and let the fresh air in
~
maybe I have to break
just one of them
to only let you in
Day 1796, between.
Daily picture, Poetry
I saw through the ice
a shape emerging
~
I don’t know if it was you
that let me see
or me
~
but we know
it’s something between us
and the ice
Day 1795, I forget.
Daily picture, Poetry
I see a lot of tracks
leading away
and towards
~
I know I made some
when I wandered around
~
but I forget
if I don’t see a pattern
Day 1794, model number.
Daily picture, Poetry
I shine with my light
on the model number I am
~
besides the number
I see no warning lights
but my hour counter
is stuck
~
do I want to upgrade
or just live on without counting
Day 1793, tools.
Daily picture, Poetry
My tools
are not as old as I am
~
they are part of me
but not unique
~
they can be passed along
when I am gone
~
if someone wants them
Day 1792, forwards.
Daily picture, Poetry
Normally
when you fly
the forwards motion
pushes you up
~
maybe
we are out of shape
Day 1790, the current.
Daily picture, Poetry
Day 1788, windows.
Daily picture, Poetry
I wander
in my head
~
searching for a view
through a window in the rooms
facing the side
where the sun goes down
~
as if beauty
or the hope of a next day
beholds an answer
Day 1787, projection.
Daily picture, Poetry
A light shines behind me
so I see
my shadow at the wall
~
it moves
and I guess
I do to
~
my shadow seems to know
before me
where I go
~
maybe I am the shadow
and turned on
this light
in front of me
Day 1786, bloom.
Daily picture, Poetry
I landed with my face down
In a cold reality
of dead weeds and earth
~
when I looked up
just in front of me
I saw a gray flower
unopened
~
I wondered
when is the right time to bloom
Day 1785, and far.
Daily picture, Poetry
I saw the whole sky
and far in the distance
it was beautiful
Day 1784, gives.
Daily picture, Poetry
Nochrisis 