Fireworks

While steep above the mountain range to gaze,
a cough cuts through the chunky air.
The rocks echo the sound, with birds to sing a chorus in flight ahead.

They bring interest to the clear sky like freckles on the skin.

Turning my tent for the wind undertaking
ripping lightly inside my clothes;
it’s sad believing time will wait, until we see wind that blows forever still.

Make haste! The speed shovels the ground:

a gust to friction clouds of dirt
I lose my weight, my cap, my shirt.
I bridge the gap like a broken spindle
with locomotive heat to kindle.
For lust! Desire to touch thimbles
of leaves, of lands, yes modern symbols.

–AY

I wrote it awhile ago, for an actual poetry class. I like reading it to myself, especially on days when I actually wish for the action to happen. Today was one of those days...helplessly hoping (Thank you CS&N).

Yes, I know people who say fireworks suck.

I cried laughing so hard at this phrase. To me, I think most humans contain an awe for them. Once you've seen and heard fireworks once, there isn't much of an aesthetic pleasure to them anymore, yet you still glare in awe.

Your life could be in shambles: you don't know where you're going, what you'll do when you get there or why you were even put here on this earth. But as you lie on your back and stare up at the familiar organization of lights blowing out and spreading across the sky perfectly each time, you realize one thing...

Mankind has and will continue to adore and master the art of the explosion.

And you end up lying there, loving the life you got.

My Groove at the moment

Melt me on the side of the sun
Something's wrong, nothing's wrong
Tell me where the flowers grow
Something's wrong, Nothing's wrong

I'm fading, you're fading
I'm fading, you're fading

-BMSR

Another day goes by, but today's the day I got my first summer pay check. It's rather sad considering that's been the highlight of my week (and no the 4th of July won't be the icing).

You live a little and you learn just how far away you are from reaching your goals. Sometimes the motivation you thought you had coming from the who's or what's isn't motivation at all. No, not motivation, but actual conflicting nature to your own that has stopped your progression.

What a douche chunk.