I shoot beyond the stars, searching for anything remotely interesting 

The path is never straight, I work the bends like Wesley Gibson

To my surprise it’s not yet illegal, having a mind this far-reaching

But that’s the thing about writing — poetry,

It uncovers doors that need opening

Concealing enough wisdom to showcase those that need closing.


Apologies your grace. You have no part to play in this race,

I switch lanes of thought in whichever way gives me the most peace

Clocking laps on my mind’s tartan track with inexplicable ease

But that’s a truth I’m encouraged not to say openly

If these arbiters are to have their way

I would behave appropriately

Adhering to all manner of doctored humility.


Re-direct your attention if my gift rubs you the wrong way

Because in this world, I hardly know how to behave

I let volatile thoughts loose like the gameplay loop of the untitled goose game

You can’t keep it a secret when you have this much talent in spades

In a world that edges you towards monochrome,

I bear a series of colours — emotions, that burrow themselves within me —  

— Think Dutch tulip fields — stretching as far as your eyes can see.


With that said, dear reader,

I would like to take this moment to tell you

That this piece won’t end with a profound lesson

I won’t lie and tell you I’m losing sleep over what’s happening

I owe you more than that.

There is no message. No virtue signalling. 

In this specific moment. All I care about is us, and this simple the truth:

“You read what I had to say. And for that, I love you”


– O.D. ©2020


Art by: mrssEclipse