Trapped in Blue


Hidden in my hood

Forgotten in my skin

A self imposed prisoner

Your words carefully placed tranverse the not insurmountble space

Space between us

Yet I do not have the hubris or the unjaded hope that you speak them for me

I comort myself half way asleep

That that sense

Of intensity and masterpiece

Is better held forever in blue that crushes vividly

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Focus and the Daydreamer


For a daydreamer what is focus?

If not a chance to let their mind wander

A chance to send their subconscious

On another adventure

It is hard to contain your brain

In this world

When you have already been

To so many others

To create

And manipulate

Your own world

Becomes like an addiction

Where you wish to return

Even at times when

Your consciousness is needed here

We need those with hyper focus

I admit

I would not enjoy

Having an absentminded surgeon

But as words filter through my brain

And I grab a scalpel to trim

Those that offend

I think that sometimes

I am like

A surgeon

I can focus on a detail so small

That most would miss it

I can choose words

With absolute precision

I can create cause and effect

With metaphor and rhyme

So perhaps it is not that

Those that live in the abstract

Lack focus

Perhaps it is that we can focus

Only on those intangible things

With the unfortunate label of  “not real”