Sticky Notes

There are times when i get the urge to write about the most obscure of things. These ‘creative strokes’ range from recounting tales of undead strawberries endlessly terrorising a village of squirrels, to  the rememberings of my childhood as a young ninja turtle.  This is one of those times. And so marks the beginning of the Sticky Notes…

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I knew this tree once upon a red moon. He was cold and shivered in a world that was all but withered. His leaves were of paper dreams, cut to resemble wings of bat and bird. He was magic pure and simple, and had branches of the most golden seams. Truth be told i know not what happened to his heart. His roots were mithril, his bark of bread. I guess that’s how it was read…

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There was a man from Katmandu, who rose to power through a zoo. He had no words to whisper clear, into her eyes and ever ear. So he sought his fortune true, in ways of wonder, in that zoo. Magic boundless ever slight, of hand and mind he earned his right. He fought the system to a tear, he grew beyond her, beyond the sphere…

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I ventured through the void, and back. Carried with me, souls of earth, souls of water, and rebirth. Into fountains I did dive, formed of fire and books unwritten. Through embered verse I did derive, the core that would my life attune. I found myself in dulcet hues, like empty echoes in the womb. I’d move to pause but found no quarter, from my mind, my heart, and a cosmic room.

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