Lacking Alacrity

Twirl-ing in a place that doesn't quite feel my own,
I have forgotten my core while talking to people,
I don't quite know.
Absorbing thoughts and theories,
I lost the connections of my own.

Not physically, entirely, lost,
but some what found.
Isolated, unsure of what I am;
Or want.

Breathing finally and thinking of my soul which twists itself in side of me.
It's shy and strange and.... Off with the fairies.... I suppose

Facebook reminds me
morbidly of my past...............is that?
Is that really me?
The bit
that seems so lost.
Or had I forgotten it way before...
way before I breathed my first breath of
consciousness?

An observation

This is a rather clever device for those that often get flies in their kitchens..... or those that are students, everywhere.
It has some sort of chemical coating on it that attracts flies to the flower and then glues them to it. You hear them struggling and buzzing for days.
After about the second day of hearing this 'poor' fly buzzing, and struggling trying to free itself from the ever so sticky trap.
I decided to take a closer look, watching it flap and buzz its little wings.
I feel a little guilty but the buzzing was rather annoying I decided to glue its wings down. In the hope that the buzz would stop and as surprised to find that that so distinctive house fly buzz continued. Admittedly quieter but the wings where no longer movable.
So is the buzzing noise not the vibrations of the wings against the air but a vibration or movement from another part of the body.
Can anyone tell me WHAT MAKES A FLY BUZZ?

The Lion and the Ladybird...

A ladybird once told her that
things left unsolved play on the brains of all involved.
Worms of self doubt attack when she thinks of an apple
firmly stuck, forever floating on the shelves of her memory.

What is this? Is this this feeling of that emotion
often clenched with roses and all things warm and fuzzy?
she squirms.

The unreplied and blinking for her attention.
Flattered and unsure,
drowning in her reading.
Paddled to deep?
It may not mean this at all.

Knowing their paths will cross once more
right now she's still reminding her self
to love a love that's that's pure.

There's so much growing to do and places to explore.
They are heading towards the same horizon,
where the sun sets in cascades of colour.

Why rush when she's so muddled
playing cruel games to be shore
paddling in tides of waves
too close, now to far

Her heart is cracked and so she toys
with others and more.
She daren't touch his it just in case
she forgets the warmth and
drops it to the floor.



It's been on my facebook for a while now, and I hated it once I wrote it but now, now that feeling that motivated me to write it has left me. I like it much much more.