An Adventure Contemplated

And so, my pulse slowed, fever abated, fingers went numb. Yet there is still a touch of blush in my pale cheeks and blue lips. There is still a glint of the blinding sunrise scintillating in my eye.

Ruminations of a Working Man, Pt. X: Member of Everything

Last night, I hung up the coat that shielded me high on the Cliffs of Moher in the closet that I seldom open, the hinges groaning in protest. The salt from the ocean spray, still clinging to the thick sleeves, left my fingers sticky and longing to return. A gentle yet abrasive reminder that, for once, I did it. I was a member of everything, and my eyes saw the vibrant colors of everything. My ears were buffeted with the pulse of everything, and its pulse became my pulse.

Consigned

  The velvety, black sky Rests heavily upon the city lights He promised he'd teach me to fly Deeper, ever deeper into the night For dreams don't just last in our eyes Life was not made for the mind So kiss the moon goodbye To naught shall thee ever be consigned   Evoke

Just Fading

  Our remnants cling desperately to that tree To see one more winter turn into spring Scars cling to life that once killed me Never quite gone, it's always just fading   Carve

On the Shoulders of Our Words

We place a burden on the shoulders of our words We tell them they can create and invent An unforeseen history, an impossible age to come Or they can destroy all on which out labors are spent They can mend the cosmos and make the heavens come undone So gingerly, I set the winds upon the seas I have rent As... Continue Reading →

Only You

Searching for answers between the lines Lines in the palm of your hand Searching for the slightest sign Sign that is your heart's fervent demand I search your eyes and see it unfold Unfold like cloud shape shifting Rampant, it could never hold Hold shape: I saw my own soul searching Searching, I found only you.   Confess

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Paul Davids

Guitarist, Creator, Musician, Producer and Teacher

The Wandering Armadillo

I am the "little armored one", moving gently through life. Hoping to safeguard my sensitivities with layers of words and the expression of thought. Shielding my mirror neurons at times, or tasting music and spinning till I'm dizzy. Every moment here is a gift.

KaylaAnn

Write, Drink Tea, Live Life, Repeat

Make Me Brave

A powerful tool. Why does it seem we're all, carelessly, pointing guns at each other like fools.

Conor Walsh Music

Minimalist piano and electro acoustic composer