Sparrow Blue

Amid the heat of the night, the city craze, and the pretty heights, he lay again….stargazing…..his brain surfing thru images of denim shorts, white shirt or a tee-shirt stitched with leather strands….in each synapse there was a sizzle.

The day had been okay….in the spell that lives life so intensely….just minutes before midnight, and hours after the sunset….He was willing to enjoy every minute of nightfall.

After it beset him to go under-cover, and hide behind a dreamy applause….Oh, the ways that can find you profoundly at the gates, and carry you to a bed, paint your eyes blue…educate you about the things that he never had to do…. He dreamt, and he slept sleeplessly, sharply turning, anticipating a point that would fix things.

It was an evening alone…..He sunk deep into the pillow, brooding darker….Concentrating on the pulse that travelled inward the flesh, divining the bones, and breathing angelic air into the nostrils….

Soon, his inevitable epiphany arose, much like most times…..and toward the cultic belief of healing, he focused his energy…and shook himself, gathering his feet in his hands…..Sitting upright…out of bed….swiveling in a bland office chair, and humming the national anthem.

It feels that isolation stems from the self alone…as the ponds of disappointment dip biscuits and pool their dirt onto the blackening….and perhaps the perpetuation is in every second, every moment…. there’s no escape….there’s nothing really….so he would have to try to make better things tomorrow, and feel better….loosen the ball and chain….and dangle freely….Awaiting winds to sway him across to a place of progress, and movement.

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Watt

It's all a matter of rust and shine, to serve a distinction between to have and to have not.

37 thoughts on “Sparrow Blue”

  3. Those moments in the night that make us sit bolt upright with our thoughts in tow and out of control and we don’t feel like we can know if it’s wise to believe the sunrise is even really a thing we can rely on.
    As always, your writing is really inspiring

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    1. I did write with a pensive mind. I’m always happy to see you here, but feel free to criticize. Or if you don’t feel that own of the pieces was up to par, then not wrote anything, if that seems kinder.

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      1. I wrote sth smart in response to your comment today, but the stupid phone or WP wouldn’t send it and deleted it.
        I don’t feel that smart right now, so all I can do it bitch about technology. Or maybe not…

        Anyway, I say sth if I it touches/provokes me and I feel like the right thing to do, if I don’t, it’s maybe because I’m not in the mood, and often has nth to do with sb’s writing.
        People often call me kind, to which I reply, I’m not kind, I’m realistic. My kind of kind is direct and honest.
        And I can criticize too if I don’t agree. As long as we have a constructive discussion, we’re ok.

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  10. Dearest Watt, avoid the winds, stand still, escape all movement, there’s power in the stillness! I adore the content of the subconscious, wakeful quiet and restlessness captured in this piece. THANK YOU! 💝 ~ Mia

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  13. Amazingly penned. You have described the sunset in such a beautiful style. The god has created so many beautiful things in the world. The nature is one of those. Amazing post!

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