I apologize for the lack of posts over the past month… between travelling, wisconsin, family, holidays and drinking, I have been extremely busy. But in that time, I have written some interesting poetry. I have been thinking a lot about palmistry (palm reading) and how the secrets of our lives can be seen on our hands, right in front of us, whenever we want. The problem with that for me is the fact that my lifeline is literally one inch long. It doesn’t even reach the middle of my palm. So either I’m going to die within the next decade or I don’t understand palm reading at all (which is probably the case). Maybe its more of a spiritual, emotional, how you live your life thing? Well I wrote a poem about it (shocking). Here you go, friends.
Lifelines
The chained marks
begin at
thumb and index,
strong and wild,
intersecting at will
like they’re supposed to be there,
like the own that space,
yet
they descend to
the center of my palm
losing momentum,
narrowing,
straightening,
as if the effects
of age
have beaten out all of my
spontaneity.
At this moment,
it disappears to
faintness
and flatness.
They say
you can see
a person’s
existence
in this line.
I would like to think
mine is not a
guideline,
but
a warning.
IT’S YOUR YOUTH, THE OLDER YOU GET THE LONGER YOUR LINE WILL GET, JUST ME GUESSING (: THE KEY I THINK TO PALM READING IS BELIEVING WHAT YOU SAY. JUST LOOK AT YOUR PALM AND SAY A BUNCH OF FANTASTIC STUFF AND WALLA THERE IS THE READING (: I THINK (: WELL HAPPY NEW YEAR, MISSED CHA SWEETIE.