Respected and Recycled
Copyright© Tyler C. Pedersen and The Ancient Eavesdropper, 2007-2016. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Tyler C. Pedersen and The Ancient Eavesdropper with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
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Tag Archives: metaphysical
Thought clouds hover above my head — overcast with a chance of poems. I am a wallflower blooming in the corner — dancing with invisible butterflies. Stars falling without end — golden leaves drifting from dendritic constellations — castaways of … Continue reading →
In the silent morning hours — before the world wakes — light passes thru the blinds — & dances on our face. Kindred spirits — bound by our convictions — free to speak our peace. Stars stake claim to the … Continue reading →
Stay calm & slow down —rest your thoughts on the now —let the worldspin around —your axis oftranquility.
A feeling of a feeling — a sense sensed — a taste touched. Poets with their contortionist tongues — twisting words to fit any verse — snapping rubberband rhymes — on the corners of our mind. In the unwritten words … Continue reading →
My mind has washed ashore on an island of words — no food or water in sight — but I can still write poems in the sand.
On the verge ofa word —at the edgeof a verb —off the cliffsof emotion —I throwmyself intoa poem. We are ephemeral graffiti art —brought tolife today —whitewashedtomorrow —short burstsof the rainbow. The simplefact remains —we only have so many days … Continue reading →
Warm air flows thru my window — brushing against my cheek — a zephyr playing tag — I’m always it. The wind whispers in my ear — revealing distant secrets — faraway sounds draw me nearer. Beside a gurgling stream … Continue reading →
Originally posted on The ancient eavesdropper:
Metaphors shed new light on life, they restore vibrant colors dulled by dust, adding depth to our frame of reference. Poets are knee-jerk puppets at the strings of their words, ventriloquist voices thrown to embody…
An undeniable silence orbits the vacuum of my mind —I am ablack holeengulfingthe world —a blank slate withunlimitedspace.
Regard the trees which twirl their tops above your head — feel the breeze that whirls inside your breath — open yourself to the nature of life.