PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

sweet marinating marijuana, yellow eclipse of popsicle in blue manila, Apache Pequot in great grey lawnsome up and down, stale pondered monacle, eclipsed as if forgotten, chalk erased and dust, and unicorn blackberry rasping sneeze, lumberjack turtleneck as if darling as blue moons, Heat. Rises. Heat sniffs the air in rendition.



strangely flowing trickle of faint voice, slowly overpassed in split-ended tippie toe tube socks, marinating marijuana lukewarm now rolling boil, frisbee subscribed to prescribers, retreating withdrawal severally removed as fireflies scatter the room, Jim Morrison breathes beat poetry, green grass so green as if sour envy, delved and melting curve at cursive daintiness. Is now before then, since now shall soon become then? Oh, so quintessentially true. Now. Then. Future. Nothing more than Pronouns. Nothing more than now and then again, each Now as separate shade, each now one split second, and yet infinity, each now only as far as now does ripen, born, live, die. Each past eternal, and yet still merely moments, which once were now, and now then. Each future merely fingers to the hands of now. Merely fingernails. Hangnails. Plummet fingertippie toes. Is now before then, since now shall soon be then, in the near future? Must be, if there is in fact no now. Double negative in acute cancellation. Postponing moon-cheese whisper dancing, no no, and yes yes, why do we need walking sticks? why do we need walking sticks?



in the future, the present is the past. in the past, the present is the future. in the present, anything is possible.