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Poems written by Reid Walley
I always found that *weird* started in the mirror and then journeyed out-of-doors where it mingled, merged, and moved about. But there had to be enough blue-dye #13 to leave a ring on the shores of the community, otherwise *weird* never gets a chance to percolate.
“Immortality is in the collective; in the soot gathered on the ceiling from the fire of time. Each life a twinkle, a speck; gone in the blink of an eye. But all the twinkles, all the specks, all the blinks slowly layered upon the ceiling until there is no more ceiling to behold except for…
Check what the muthafuckin’ record just said, man. Slip to the books chump, betta find another can. Killin’ muthafuckas just tryin’ a throw a juice, man? Spreadin’ to the head blast, record for the devils’ can. Kiss, cut, cry, kill; muthafuckin’ bullet fill. Dabble death, trigger will, betta shot, betta kill. Muthafuckin’ asshole, betta chill…
You are not my happiness, but I have joy from you. You are not my stability, but I have balance from you. You are not my confidence, but I have strength from you. You are not my lover, but I have romance from you.
It’s too rare an emotion,too rare a friendship,too rare an understanding.Few moments in life are worth crying with,but you are definitely one of them.And when the time comesthat I can no longer hold your handand tell you I love you,my heart will cry with painand my skin will grow cold,and I will quietly die.
Just once, I wish I could kiss you for an hour in the middle of a quiet park; Taste your beautiful lips. Just once, I wish I could hold you in my arms and draw animals on your back; Paint you with my fingers. Just once, I wish I could wake up with your head…
Wind chimes need to be disturbed to be heard. Only through chaos is there music.