Kristian Kidd

Stillness 

It’s all still all of that

The mountains

The moon with a ring around it

A Saturn of our skies

Fresh food in the air 

The smell of it

So high

So close

To the surrounded lunar being 

Light breeze and 

Beautiful cul de sacs

Of grandiose houses

With many cars

In each lot 

An American dream

The close moon could appreciate 

Babel

Coincidental Babel

And me 

Babbling about coincidental Babels 

Looking back

To make sure I’m alone

As the circular Luna 

Like a ufo spaceship

Looks back and down on me 

It’s all a circle

One you can see

Another you’ll never see 

Unless you close your eyes

While thinking

In the stillness and faint breeze 

High in the mountains

I’ve been to the mountaintop

How great it is

Right on the edge of the sky

Or the stratosphere 

At the crux of knowing

All the secrets of life

Our meaning our existence

Ourselves 

Childhood

Childhoods end 

What we all dread

But want

On your own

To your own 

For your own

How soon our hearts wander

To the breasts of our mothers

And the laps of our fathers

If they were good to us

Childhood some can escape

Not quick enough

I want to feel like a child

But be at its end

Not in a bordered wasteland

Of limitation and immaturity

Advancement and change

Who wants the adolescence

Maybe the football star

With receding hairline

And too many wife beaters 

Incessantly looking back and 

Wanting

Avarice of the memories 

But the middle days

We don’t usually envy teenageness 

I want to be a child again

I hope I can be 

To not know and not care

And not be judged for it

To be trusting and daring

And in my ignorance

See much and appreciate more than ever 

It’s beyond a miracle to be entertained

By nothing nothing at all 

But it’s gone only to star in an unsure memory 

Well 

Such is life

I hope not 

World without worry without end 

When the world ends

We will be there

Watching

What happens next after

Worlds collide

Where are it’s people

Whom do they know

Who are they

Why did they live

Worried and weary 

Warred and fatigues

Wow this is the end

Well look on 

Why, not back upon the

World because it’s over

Standing Around 

Standing around

Not a thing to do

Looking at the busy street

And thinking

Thinking thinking thinking 

The way it should be

People watching

Making sure I have nothing to do

While they do everything they can

Hustle and bustle

Big city

Hustle and flow

Traffic moving

In cars and in shoes

On bikes

Or skates

Long boards and short boards

They move

I stay

It’s a great feeling

When I lay back

Getting happier

Joyous

That I have no care in the world

They these saints

Have taken them from me

My cross has shifted

The burden lifted

This is the best

Not a care in the world

A street with many people

Sidewalks populated

On a busy Friday night

With nothing ever to do 

As the preachers yell

Only stalled

By BLM protestors

Not like me

With nothing to do