Where am I?

In space and time, there is a choice of great and unknown as questions,

There's a deep dark space, but, in time comes light and breaks-in a nation,

Collide with someone in the vicinity

Crackling and spraying to an extremity.

But for me that light sat, stared, and asked me “well mister, uh function?”

“Where are you going?”

“Well, we can not link, so long.”

The light looked and joined.

Passing hundreds? no, thousands? no, millions of people each day

Me and bulby.

Passing people that totally linked lights.

It seems like I never will.

Even though Bulby is there I remain in darkness.

A reality, but that contains darkness.

Without wells, darkness definitely does exist e s/xetensitionally inside and ill-human mind, my mind.

So, all I am capable of doing is thinking with the help of Bulby.

A place of pure darkness

Looping my mind and placing the world of darkness of myself within myself, where it is to remain nowhere but myself.

Notably noticing nothing, barely becoming something suddenly, sloth-ishly, linking lights.

But not ours, me and my Bulby are not connected through lights.

So we often talk but not about things that already exist, we expand on those things well purposefully pointing perfectly to ideas that can be new things.

We know we can not link, so we just chat.

Always an assumption officially offering external extinguishable flames.

To those willing to listen.

But many don't, so I sit alone.

With Bulby.

“So do we split now?”

“Inclusiveness… why should we?”

“Cause no link,” “So?

Day strikes, but I feel that it is still dark, with into my options,

Now I gloom in the world till there is a shape, “Bubly!” I mention.

Shining in purest and my destiny,

Bubbling but ending in a travesty.

Since we, me and Bubly, will not, can not, may connect and lengthen.

If you are interested in the style of poem(s) I used to tell this story, continue reading. I appreciate that you even clicked on me and adore the fact that you want to even read what I have written.

In order of poem:

Limerick - a five-line witty poem with a distinctive rhythm. The first, second and fifth lines, the longer lines, rhyme. The third and fourth shorter lines rhyme. (A-A-B-B-A).

Haiku - This ancient form of poem writing is renowned for its small size as well as the precise punctuation and syllables needed on its three lines. It is of ancient Asian origin.

Haiku's are composed of 3 lines, each a phrase. The first line typically has 5 syllables, second line has 7 and the 3rd and last line repeats another 5. In addition there is a seasonal reference included.

Free Verse - A Free Verse Poem does not follow any rules. Their creation is completely in the hands of the author. Rhyming, syllable count, punctuation, number of lines, number of stanzas, and line formation can be done however the author wants in order to convey the idea. There is no right or wrong way to create a Free Verse poem.

Haiku - This ancient form of poem writing is renowned for its small size as well as the precise punctuation and syllables needed on its three lines. It is of ancient Asian origin.

Haiku's are composed of 3 lines, each a phrase. The first line typically has 5 syllables, second line has 7 and the 3rd and last line repeats another 5. In addition there is a seasonal reference included.

Limerick - a five-line witty poem with a distinctive rhythm. The first, second and fifth lines, the longer lines, rhyme. The third and fourth shorter lines rhyme. (A-A-B-B-A).