I find myself sitting and staring lost in the emptiness of my mind. A universe once filled it and somehow the awe began to shrink and the lost screams began to grow. Every now and then I catch a glimpse of the final sand grain. It is taking my all to not punt this post until another time when I am not between shifts, grasping for words, and knowing full well that the Delay and Intention were the forefathers of this Nothing that eaten the possibilities and connections. Motivation withered. M...

I wish that I could say that today's post was brought to you by experience, intense thought, and thrills before the winter chills; however, this is just a motivational version bump. It is a "don't break the effort of habit while finishing a day reflective of past poetry" or as Robert Burns had put it: "The best laid schemes o' mice an' men / Gang aft agley ...". ...

Give me this day, my daily distraction from the confines of required form and overthought. A textual mental stray is needed for the birth of new ambition and the recollection of the self prematurely considered gone. ...