Group Spontaneous Prose

Desperate Times Group Prose Series: Volume I

It was late, about three or four in the morning. We were together for once; the three of us. Jared, Dave and Ben. I seized the moment; ripe with potential, primed for prose I proposed a group spontaneous speak session. We alternated turns speaking - each speaker gave way to the next, the line was continued - the thoughts were circular and I... would like to share the group prose with you:


Possums In The Night

The exit was clearly marked -- orange lights bold letters
Screamed silently, hysterically through fog and thru pills.
The door was within reach.
Tho my intentions had wavered –
I kept my firm resolve
And journeyed onward
and traveled

A possum in the night cries out with moans of fright.
Another day approaches and with it, the danger of the light
The obalisque of dawn.
The shade of slumber – the reaper of souls – the shouldered oneness of eternity slips on silently
And in his wake, we rise to meet a new day
Like a possum in the night

Clawing at terror shrunken reality myths – he struggles up his tree; protecting his best, family, of three.


Epiphany

There were cuts on
Her forearms
Their appearance
Unnoticed,
Dark nothings
In the
Night.

Haunt my soul,
Kill my sight.
To forget these
Visions –
The darkness
Makes it prettier
Inside.

I want to destroy
Myself
That thought I fail
To hide.
No longer inside
But now alive.
It’s so much brighter
Outside.


3 Degrees of Freedom (Tilt, Roll, and Yaw)

Life in a sphere
It’s better out here
An infinite loop
No escape
A dandelion falling
A unicorn calling
For more more she cries
Noone hears
Except for the dolphin
The dolphin hears all
Yet speaks for nooone
Noone sees inside my dreams
Strange
Except for the sleep man who hides from
Eyes of conception
He sees all within
But none without
Many things
Wondrous things
He weilds his power over the dreaming
Fooling us all into consciousness
A shhoting star
An oasis
A chance for respite
Peace
Calm
A tranquil desert
For a moment
The storm arrives without warning
Destruction is its creation
No sooner than it had came
Had it vanished
A midnight fever
A sleeping sickness
A plague of unwaking propagation

The sleep man comes to you at night
Upon his flaming motorcycle
Dreams come to me
But little do I see
I hear your cries
Before you close your eyes
Before I tuck you in
For the last time
Before I tuck you in for the last time
Yo make me say goodbye
I wish that I could cry
Make me want to feel so good
Make me want to have you
Make me feel so good
This feelim inside
Im trying to hide
It gets harder
In need someone in which to confide

The internet gives the mental space
To create a global identity
If you look at capitalism
Took a while
As far as communism
Marxism
It hasn’t happened yet
Global communism
Everyone interconnected
The internet loss of national identity
With the downfall of global banking
Reeals the approach to interdependence
All parts must thrive for the whole to survive