In you, and in me, there is a child-essence glowing and emanating like sphered, cylindrical lights, which merge and blur even when you’ve got the cocking of posture, the show of shaking red crown and scratching dirt, because which of the roosters doesn’t need water?
We all must drink and I too have the purpled-green, feathered sheen of ego, most pronounced on my fear-riding, proud days, too much to put up with hen yard scratching’s and the bit of cornmeal between the fat of iridescent June bugs, their crunchy shells, and protein powers.
At the bank, I watch the home show choosing’s of those who’ve won some lottery and pick to make their best showmanship of Island houses, where others must boat in to be entertained on white sands, monkey’s and their covert brashness swing from the palms, jump with stolen treasures in their hands.
No, I am not in line, but pulled in just the same to TV fantasies prescribed, better lives than those in which we must beat our drums to harmonize our hearts away from the pseudo cell-towered pulls of wi-fi living. Today, I must make an oath to stop getting my information from the youtube expose’ and instead listen for the connotative meanings in your own crowing’s, lest the egg farmer plunk us in a boiling pot to stew.
Photo Credit: Mica/unsplash
This piece has been published before on steemit (by me), but was only seen by a couple people so decided to re-publish today being that the daily freewrite prompt is rooster.
Yesterday, I sat having my first coffee out of doors in I think... what....let's count .... (bad at numbers, hold on)....about 15 years. No make that 16. My poor fizzing, jingling, permanently wind-chimed ears had to endure a lot of hen-squawking and crowing to cacophonous music (music did I call it?). Picked the wrong cafe, too close to China Town, on the wrong day. Hey, I'm like a virgin to this, okay! No, I'm not dissing the Chinese: I have my share of relaxing Tao discs. I know the Szechuan cuisine ranks as the best world wide. I might even get a Lenovo laptop, if not a Huwai telephone. But - blame it on the three shots I ordered in my machiato (what do I know how coffee tastes like anymore; what's the difference between a flat white and a machiato and then a tall white, or an espresso machiato? Where did large capuccinos go?) - the whole event (at the city hall) just dripped gunge and tack and cheap-fix-Saturday-filler ooze. The lack of quality and care and simply cohesion and meaning and significance above all made me nauseous. Then again, you might like to blame that machiato.
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You make me laugh! I don't know anything about the modern day coffee either. I order the Americano, no cream, no sugar and it's safe enough. Three shots!? Maybe that's what amplified all the grating noises and attitudes? And, good for you on getting out and having the out-of-doors coffee! Even if the local scene left you wanting.
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Thank you for freewriting with us! Here's the prompt:- Day 476: 5 Minute Freewrite: Friday - Prompt: groundhog day.
Thanks again! With love and hugs.
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Great picture, stunning!
They say 5G will make us all go crazy!
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