It’s nearly impossible to know the movement of Earth, while standing in the center, pondering its invisible pull; Perhaps we see it most clearly in pencil marks of poets, gliding words in motion, on paper - a waterfall tumbling into nothingness

#ds106

Breaking the frame becomes you — the slight angle in which your eyes remember the point of view

Breaking the frame releases, too — the quiet pause in which your mind remembers the point of you

for #ds106

So much of us remains forever hidden - the super of man the wonder of woman - until the time we find we are needed, the moments when we pull from inside something to believe in

for #dS106

fire hand slowly burns this fire land into ashes

we are reborn again in the dust of what has gone before

Here, hold my fingers grasp my fire hand tell your story rebuild the world once again

for #ds106

These dark days stretch to boiling, boorish and bubbling, with leaders run amuck

We're stuck at square one, the tour of protest, joined, and answers, required

Democracy benefits from accountability

(a poem built from random ten words for #ds106)

I'm less nub than stub, a graphite ghost of stories and poems. Now imagine the paper, lined and unlined, tiny little spaces where I spent my days, scribbling with abandon in order to write my way into the world, only to disappear, my sharpened point now crystal clear

— for #ds106