Giraffes With Headbands

These are giraffes with headbands. Just a little something I was working on. I tried to find a picture of them online, but the entire first page of Google images didn't have one, therefore I assumed that it did not exist. So I made my own.

That aside, I'm not really sure what else to share. I've been writing some poetry and some other stuff. I've been inspired by the idea of storytelling in poetry as opposed to my typical modus operandi of puzzle-making. Instead of trying to encrypt my feelings into a linguistic and thematic puzzle, I've been trying to tell a story with what I feel. There's still a lot of the old puzzle-making remnants lying around, but I can see a difference in my writing. Can you?

Industry

I hear the whistle as the train comes 'round the bend.

Industry, machinery, toiling to no end.

Wheels turn, fires burn life to death to fuel the machine.

With blinders on, we work to claim what we've never seen.

With no true goal, we strive to see beyond our sight.

But some remove the blinders and in mystery delight.

And there find the life they've been burning all along:

Sight turns to art, confusion to joy, and sound into a song.

But with hammer I keep striking at my cold, dead life.

And here, before You now, life strikes back.

I'm down, out, KO'd, knocked out by life's first punch.

There, between the live I've always wanted and the death I've always feared,

There I will live.

Or how about this one?

Butterfly

There's a butterfly on the palm of my hand

It tickles but I hope it stays

I can't use that hand now

But I think I like it best that way

I remember when it landed there

It was too good to be true

And ever since I've been fighting

I want to grasp, squeeze, and hold it

So that it won't fly away

But my most tender grasp will kill its life

So I can only embrace it with open hand