A Wilde One{0}

Sometimes good old fashion pen to paper is enough to clear your head, jog your memory or embrace some silliness.

The surroundings are overcast with hints of winter and the ocean ripples toward far away lands.  The trees whisper in the wind and you can’t help but wonder what they’re saying. Some harmless brain spew promises a glorious day of creativity. Dr. Seuss inspirations encourage light hearted banter but your mind doesn’t let the Oscar Wilde in you get any rest. Delving into history shows that you’re made up of both. This is where the past meets now and it’s a quiet collision. Some memories never leave you so you carry them around like a lucky charm. I hope Matt Andrews is playing a piano somewhere singing. I hope there is space and there is someone in it.  I hope there is room and it is occupied.  The moon is full and gives light so you can see what is ahead of you.  A subtle glance. I catch you. I look away and I feel your eyes on me.  Imagination works its wonder. Memory of a kiss and kiss pull away.  I didn’t mean to leave you but the words are on paper only. Feelings are internal and kept to yourself.  You look at me and I want to be lost in you forever.  There is an open door but you still knock.  You walk in and look around. Searching the room for me.  It spins, it tango’s, it mixes drinks.  A picture is taken, a demo recorded and the laughter fills the air.  The drum you play is the heart.  The words you sing the soul.  The ivory keys on your piano keep you moving.  You’re intriguing. The linear righteousness has vanished. You’re famished.  You ask. You speak. You know. You hear. You need. You want. You’re horizontal but you look down. You’re vertical but you see behind you and I may be closer to being found.  Lights flicker, candles lit. No breath to blow out. Sulphur fills the air and a cough is heard.  Footsteps on the wooden floor and they approach. But they don’t.  It’s just a tapping.  Misconceptions. Sony sound. Rewind and do a playback please. I missed it.  Digital enhancements. Qualitative kisses. It always comes back to kisses. So give notice. Seven days in advance.  The flash is on but there is no film. That radio plays no music. The only sounds that you can hear are the warnings.  Because this is only a test.  This is only a test.