Speed-demon Tracks

This site is about my personal concepts and daily trials, plus the ramblings of a madman.

Breakdown Bushies

Breakdown bushies

Not taking the time to hold on to the sky can make the ground feel like a twisting thicket of endless rough brush, bramble, and hogweed. There is no need to worry about falling from the sky though. Maybe a lot can be said about the sweet scene peeking through the pen and paper.

It was made with some Serious pens, I know that.

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Turn the page

Arm and arm, the hands reach the distance. And with each new length, elbows expand and contrast, over and over. Together, the joints of the first day show themselves as pillars, showing ways around the hard covers that bind definitions down to tongue and cheek.

What is written as the plot thickens isn’t critical enough to stall for or stop at. Gripping details of the story doesn’t have to be all that matters. Flip and skim, poke and recite, do what feels good in the moment. There’s always a minute worth something, even beyond fleeting feelings flowing from formats and old chapters turned in during the next day.

 

Do what can be done, then do it again. It is all progress when it comes to personal accolades.

 

Turn the page Final.png

“Turn the page”

Salamander

 

Dream a simple shoot,

This way to a drifting dandy loft

Rest easy to the somber,

Breathe deeply with those steps,

Swim into the misty terrain

 

One must wonder how to clean the body

They must stutter to the stunning tones

Some can’t grasp to the spring of life

None can’t halt to let passion flow

Many try to tongue the drive though,

For wild thoughts can pave lasting roads

 

These thorns and berries are adorable

They rinse skin round and down

With wild thoughts they pick the lips,

Using sheets they lay gently down

With bumpy sleekly lumps they’re wrapped plumped,

Holding an endearing form, a warming mound

 

Bask on gases leading from heights and depths

Lure the dual duo, lewdly

Cast amphibian stories to a later time,

Later on where they’ll be lessons

As the rays bake away the later worries,

Save the strange feelings to stay skin-firm

 

Salamander

Got to love a branching life. A life full of choices and changes.

 

 

Dinja

Wring around the weening sky

Wean with it, so warm and high

A skyward fire that reaches out

With beats that roll the body deeply

 

The feeling burns into mind and tail

Something so stunning must have a pulse

A lunge so sudden, tense as a torrent

Like a cortex in a vision, strong and cautious

 

In spirit, the form demands closeness

It seeks to cuddle within the mood

To be one for a cycle, to embrace more than as memos

As a system, a connection bound to feelings

 

Towards the end, the coils fade

Meanwhile, the bond is made

From a projection from fiction

The passion of above beyond has weaved a vow

 

 

Dinja

It is what you need it to be…

Sunny Side

Sunny side

Somewhere out there is a new tomorrow

A sparkly sky filled with rich dreams

No matter what rimlights us,

This can be the next happening

 

Sit us back so we’ll see

Tuck us tight to be relieved

Rock us rolling, rock us right

Hum us this, a springtime bite

Quiet Attendance

In me there are many sides

Many walls, many tales

So many eyes stare into my lines

Many eyes, judging me

They scare me more than I`ll ever know

Many rows, like crows

They`ll murder me as I look back

Towards the present, but not the past

 

The paint and steel peels, it hurts to watch

With every glance on the wall

Achievements that encourage my motions

Not aiming to afflict me, but bring the fact closer

A fact of ease, not a strain

Ebbs and flows pull a traction-

A collective madness I drive back with my own

As I seek new chapters beyond my current

 

 

But as the gale changes my words,

I am refreshed with smooth hands,

A body that can starve the graveyard,

A heart made of lights and glaze-

I am brought back, over and over

This feeling makes it hard to shout

Memos cry for me to follow my heart,

But as a heart takes a heart, I get tangled by things

 

Dully figures and graffiti- far by and away

No matter how far back I get beaten, I come back

I get little awards and trinkets for survival,

But only for ignoring everyone else`s thorns

But as I ignore my own, I am the prime pick

But back from madness- I stir between principal and lesson

A lot of stirrings that I won`t break for, but can`t face combined

My tangled things at least look lovely- aside from my sides

 

I know smiling is a meal worth sharing,

It goes well with a slice of subtly

So as my hours continue to flip in glass, I wait-

Not like some prize hoping to be claimed

Not as some begging famous who`s stuck in rain

Not until I am forced to work a terrible fate-

I was just quiet, now I can be whatever I just

I know that I will come back to my sides, I am as I wish

 

Quiet Attendance

Names are for friends

A little pair of scissors and some glue

It’s all you need to make something feel new

Carry the fun around, chain the mends

Talk safely to strangers, for names are for friends

 

Plug the surge back up, you got to see this

There are webs online that saddens the bliss

But don’t let it drag you down, not right now

Don’t let the view lock up your caps, don’t ask how

 

Touch the ground and rest for a change

With a power break you’ll find the next page

Even oranges have signs of singe, some signs of tinge

So be close to strangers, besides names are for friends

 

Nothing can change your mind?

Not much should reach your crime?

Silence is someone isolating some ice

Why not break that frost with some nice rice bowls, or minced hand wipes?

 

It sounds crude to be bored out by work, and worked stiff

But you know that complacent work habits drives the rift

You’ll need to make new ends, at some point even with the bins

At some point your strangers will have names like you, friend

 

Trust it or not, up to you or down

Turn away and you’ll hear no tears drop, nor a screaming drown

Being hurt by crossed wires? Crackling in the head might work

You believe those cold sheet walls more than a stranger’s quirk?

 

Those scorns have got to be second guesses

Strangers glaring among friends of first impressing misses

But trust what you want, but don’t be a shut in

Believe and speak it then, names are for friends