Enunciation + iteration = evocatively expressive sequences of summation

As the Rubik is twisted yet again and again

Circumstance will change with the passage of time

The hand currently held need not remain in the future

It just takes a willingness to tweak or redefine

Creative blocks don't feel so great

Grating? Yeah, they even agitate

Agitation arising from the limbo state

Stating such serves to ameliorate

Amelioration?  Hopefully now I'll  create

Passing through a scanner of the TSA, I was nabbed for a container of aerosol spray.

It wasn't a matter of attempted circumvention, or an act of malice that warranted detention.

It's simply that I packed a dittie in a rush -  which resulted in it's seizure and my face full of flush.

Here and there people Tweet, mobile data’s really neat - read, reply and then delete

We are textestrians!

Dining with friends I do adore.  Yikes, the conversation’s a bore.  Humm, what’s up beyond the door?

We are textestrians :)

To the mall with PDA near, when wielded in front it becomes a spear and away from us others must veer

We are textestrians

Immediacy is a continuous need, “Can’t wait, right now," that’s the creed.  Rapid blather, heed and bleed ...

We are textestrians?

It’s so easy to pontificate, share some news or foment some hate.  No eye contact - isn’t it great ?!?

We are textestrians :(

Addiction to the broadcast word, senders being barely heard above the din of the digital herd

We are textestrians

At the movies or with a book, fighting the urge to take a look at devices placed “off the hook”

We are textestrians?

Escape and make some quality time - nod to a neighbor, follow a vine.  Yes, the physical world’s sublime

We are textestrians?

Watch the birds and the bees, look around, savor Thee, and be fully present non-digitally

No longer textestrians, we can be free

Consciousness slowly washes over my soul as I awaken from the depths of an afternoon dream

A slow floating sensation with which I roll, circular yet unhurried like carefully whipped cream

The sublime reluctantly relinquishes its grasp, as the world steadfastly makes its presence known

I don't have a choice as to where I am going, but the pace of reawakening can be my own

The world beckons my reentry, so alive with sights and sounds in their perpetual show

Still, the realm that I'm leaving is so full of wonder that it's a destination to which I again yearn to go

Comfortably uncomfortable yet in the zone

Striving for something outside the dome

Intentions are set and thus they guide

The course is clear when fear's set aside

Reaching far yet so centered by you

My mind's wide open and my heart is true

Traffic is ripping from the left and the right while a man hoofs it to work in the dawn's early light

With not enough money to buy a ride to the job, the man walks the highway, shod in the worn clothes of a slob

He must deftly dodge across double lanes - this causes startled observers to think "Man, that's insane"

Counting his blessings that he's made it safely so far, he shakes loose a smoke for some nicotine laced tar

For a while he's marooned on the thin median strip, so he savors some drags from a butt between his lips

Then ponders what has become the lot of his life - "Have I ever known solace, or just struggle and strife?"

With a smoky euphoria now teasing his brain, he has taken to an expression that might just explain

"Pick your poison," the man, after each ignition, will say, "The end will come - but hopefully not today."

Shadows sliding side by side

Flying forward via human stride

Beings manifested by a rising sun

Obstructed rays during a morning run

Breaths bring oxygen to human hearts

Shadows summarize their body parts

After tucking a tail between one's legs, it's time to face the inevitable chagrin

"Isn't avoidance possible?" the ego begs, "It's so crushing when I don't win"

Alas, a faux pas placed upon a peg starts the passage towards forgiveness of sin

Reconciliation can segue from earnest apology, but never from perpetuated spin

Censorship grows quickly old, "Watch your thoughts - do as your told."

Doesn't it matter how one might feel when earnest expression is brought to heel?

Ultimately an oppressor is the greater fool for tearing to shreds the Golden Rule.

Intermittent wipers are a mechanical delight as they cleanse a zone of critical sight.

Faithfully scraping splotches from the sky in a periodic pulse playing out before my eyes.

Bladed arms arching, pass after pass, in a measured tempo while gliding across glass.

Each blissful pause serving to partially abate the chances of entry into hypnotic state.

The essence of an issue is what matters

Some basic principles that form a core

A premise lays the initial foundation

From which success may ultimately soar

An outline maps the path to progress

Charting key actions along the way

Milestones mark completion of steps

Performance celebrated on important days

Preparation can be a most tiresome bore

Filled with repetition and effort unseen

But then onstage, the effort will look easy

And watchers will shine an appreciative sheen

An October evening, crisp is the air

The blowing wind toys with my hair

The pizza pickup is a short walk away

Take-out's the call after a busy day

Two personal pies - one gluten free

For Sunday night football is soon on TV

We'll be ready and set to bring our cheer

With slices and drinks, to the couch we'll steer

Our team needs a win, that's for sure

Oh pleeease don't let our offense be a bore

Around the corner, around the bend

An unknown future winds and wends

Today, tomorrow, and next month too

It doesn't matter the point of view

The present appears one second at a time

Accept what is now, it can be sublime