focus (or lack thereof)

i often sit, as i always blabber-on about, in a room by myself, reading or listening to music--things like that; but i also spend a lot of time wandering in my head. the walls i leave mostly blank for this reason. i enjoy staring at a wall and letting it put the empty space in my mind that i need to facilitate my meanderings--it brings me a relaxation that is paralleled by few things. 

now, this is not to be mistaken for some traditional sort of meditation; where one would seek to clear their mind of all thoughts in order to properly meditate, i would rather catch every loose thought and throw it in to a basket that i can set aflame--breathing in smoke is also something i enjoy. 

and speaking of breathing... this piece was inspired by the action of sitting and trying to take deep breaths to calm my nerves; though it doesn't always work, it is a great excuse to not move much for a while. i enjoy not moving, as well.

focus (or lack thereof)

people make better
  statues than puppets

really-
  if we could catch
 clouds in our mouths
at least our whispers would
   live up to their namesake; but

instead our sighs rise like smoke-
  taking obvious answers to a height
       that belies their origin

while we remain
    framed in pictures
 covered in ash that don't talk about anything
   no matter how well they float (or flail)

it's all the fault of the air-
  but we never complain while inhaling

we spoil the sky, the 
  oxygen with our weak lungs
and we expect to breathe wantonly
      until our last gasp
(and we'll try without meaning to)

we'll never fly without assistance
  but it will become a more 
comfortable fall every time we lighten our heads-

the atmosphere assures it:
  it thins itself out; mocking our
 smiles that are forced into place
       (mostly) by the wind