Poem for Monday, May 27, 2024

Saturday, April 13, 2024 Religion is no longer what it was at one time in my life. I am no longer trapped in the lies of the Cult of Denominations. What part of the strawberry is the straw? Long walk Sunny Day finding my way home again. I dream many dreams, nothing is as it seems, vivid dreams I dream after a long walk on a sunny day. I went to the museum this morning. I went by a place that gives out free lunch on the second Saturday of the month. I had to nap after eating because I had not been getting as much sleep the past few days. I had vivid dreams. I plan to go somewhere tomorrow. I was going there today but I was too tired to go today. https://www.patreon.com/jason29171⁠⁠ ⁠http://swellcast.com/jason29171⁠ Poems and Photography: ⁠https://a.co/d/bFYc1kO⁠ Words, Floating: Poetry And Photography: ⁠https://a.co/d/5htw2lz⁠ ⁠https://jason29171.substack.com/⁠ ⁠⁠http://Fjasonwhitakerwriter.com ⁠⁠ ⁠⁠https://medium.com/@jason29171⁠⁠ https://www.viewbug.com/membe...

Love Story (Part One)

- July 11, 2017

Steadily the rain pours in a rhythm that has me awake at this late hour. The small light beside my bed allows the canvas of stars outside my window to be seen while I read. I do not read now, my eyes skimming the page, absently I glance over the pages, and random words catch my attention while I recall the events that have brought me here. What moments of sorrow are these that keep me from dream and what times are these that make it difficult to look beyond these days? I look at his photo and wonder if our time spent together was no more than a facade. Those days shared now seem more like a dream enclosed within ironic truth. It began on one Friday morning and ended the same, a week later. The clouds drift in small patches across an otherwise blue sky. I sit in this lovely park on such a beautiful day. Some children play nearby, birds singing in the trees around me, and the daily press before me waiting to be read. The rest of the day open to many possibiliti...

The Blue Car

- July 11, 2017

The moisture in the air surrounds me like a hot blanket. We roll down the windows in hopes of cooling off. We’ve been on the road for so long and our journey has just begun. This car stolen after the last heist, our getaway not being as we thought, and now we’re on the run It was only fortunate that the owner of this blue compact left the keys in the ignition only blocks from the bank. The white interior soon spotted with blood. Who would have known that one of us would end up shot? The car speeds through town after town: one small town after the next: mostly one light town with not much more than a Piggly Wiggly. The moans of pain fill the car as he comes closer to death. After miles of classic rock blaring on the radio in an attempt to calm all of us I turn it down and then off. I look at Thomas and he looks at me. We know we have to stop but where? As the car comes to the top of a hill I can see what we need. Ahead of us, at the bottom of the hill, is a motel. We pul...

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F. Jason Whitaker Writer