Kayfucius

A collective of thoughts, poetry, writing works, blurbs, and other randomosity

Evening, Ma’am, Sir. Evening walks to nowhere in particular and everywhere I’m going. Evening coffee, evening meal… Evening matinees awaken the sky, as sun sets horizon alight with gold and orange; rose and wine and blue. Evening – shadows. Moon is rising the wanes of Gibbous in half… Evening, crickets – how melodic your trill. …

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Clock always ticking but I can’t catch the rhythm in its tempos, I’m always just a little off. Hours keep hostages; Small cells into which are squeezed essential bits of life. But I don’t like the constraints; [To be] ensnared in eternal judgment by encroachments of minute captivity where there are always seconds… Perpetual measures, …

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You don’t like the thoughts I think – only when they’re in written form. But, hell… even my conversational inclinations tend to wear on you over time. So I think my thoughts and swallow my words and I cradle my writing precious close… Tiny pearls, my words, that I rediscover regularly, and keep cultivating; I’m …

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Break it up, break it up store it in boxes divide it into compartments with neat little labels and color-coded dividers… Leave some things here, in this odd storage; You’ll feel lighter. And the rest? Well, they’re free to be; free to roam, except when opposites become truth. But it’s my mind – it don’t …

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Kayfucius

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