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| type | summary | title | date | align |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| poetry | A poem I wrote called Miriscient | Miriscient | 2018-12-17T09:30:48Z | left |
Morning always brought about a sigh of resignation for me.
A feeling of incompatibility
Between the world inside my dreaming head
And the one I found before me.
So I'd turn the other cheek
And maybe sneak another forty winks
As I tried to burrow back beneath the sheets
And strain to make those two ends meet.
But there's only so much you can do from bed.
Locked into reflection, sometimes it's novelty
That spurs on perception, so instead
I made a choice: to look ahead and take wonder as my voice.
Turns out, shock horror, I'm nothing new
There's quite a few folks who take the view
That shaping oddities from in your mind
And bringing them alive is what we're meant to do
So now I strive to learn as much
About the wondrous, and absurd, and such
As is plainly, humanly, possible.
To be in awe of what my fellow dreamers make,
Of their dreams or with their hands when wide awake
Is the greatest existential vent
I thrive on being miriscient.