Prose
Unforgivable Stitches
April 2025 11:24pm To be a dreamer is foolish, taught to us in shadows of expression, fools approach me more than a decent living nowadays, and do you think you can go on living? Do you think you can string it together, make a pretty picture on a cork board, and we’ll all forget that you can’t tell up from down? That you were born all twisted up and unforgiving? Fools don’t approach you anymore, you carved yourself a chasm in bedrock but it’s really made of the same cushions your ancestors stitched together, and what does string have to do with lessons learned? To be a dreamer means criss-crossing plays an essential role, to be a fool means you have already been assigned a part, and to be me or to be you means a decent living is nothing to be taught, nothing to be learned, but to be recognized. We can go on living because what else is there to do, other than break apart the puzzle and stick the box in the closet to be well rested for our children. It’s upside down, so mind your head in thirty years, and if a missing piece falls beneath wood, then it’s time to dig. The clock is ticking. Dreams won’t satisfy anyone. Teach them of light source and make sure you get the thick strands from the store down the road, it’s worth it in the end.
By Olivia Dodge10 months ago in Poets
Yes, Humanity Needs Saving
I think sometimes we spend our lives searching for things, for answers, that we may never know the answers too. There are a lot of great thinkers who never knew if they were right or way off on their predictions. Think about that. Think about how so many things that we know now about the world and universe and everything around us--some of the most historical figures, even, never knew all of the answers. They died without knowing. I often wonder in times like these if people want to continue that trend, or take a new path, a new way, a greater way.
By Slgtlyscatt3red10 months ago in Poets
