Drikus
@drikus7write.bsky.social
Word-organizing writer, hobbyist photographer, conversationalist, just treading carefully in this world, where we need to live more of GOD instead of for ourselves.
What size? When do you need the delivery?
a jar of nutella sits on top of a cake
ALT: a jar of nutella sits on top of a cake
media.tenor.com
December 4, 2025 at 1:37 PM
What size? When do you need the delivery?
The moon looks like...👇
a close up of a white cat with the words gouda cheese above it
ALT: a close up of a white cat with the words gouda cheese above it
media.tenor.com
December 4, 2025 at 12:08 PM
The moon looks like...👇
Cookies and chocolate...
a cartoon of winnie the pooh sitting at a table with a bowl of food and the words yum
ALT: a cartoon of winnie the pooh sitting at a table with a bowl of food and the words yum
media.tenor.com
December 4, 2025 at 11:51 AM
Cookies and chocolate...
Surviving Decay -29/11/2025
Superstitions thrown out the window
blooming into moonlight,
unyielding.
Shadow and light sitting quietly by
darkness a study surviving,
luminous.
Singleness through moments
night flowers blooming,
bruised.
Solitude a form ascending
beauty beholding,
surviving decay.
Superstitions thrown out the window
blooming into moonlight,
unyielding.
Shadow and light sitting quietly by
darkness a study surviving,
luminous.
Singleness through moments
night flowers blooming,
bruised.
Solitude a form ascending
beauty beholding,
surviving decay.
November 29, 2025 at 10:03 AM
Surviving Decay -29/11/2025
Superstitions thrown out the window
blooming into moonlight,
unyielding.
Shadow and light sitting quietly by
darkness a study surviving,
luminous.
Singleness through moments
night flowers blooming,
bruised.
Solitude a form ascending
beauty beholding,
surviving decay.
Superstitions thrown out the window
blooming into moonlight,
unyielding.
Shadow and light sitting quietly by
darkness a study surviving,
luminous.
Singleness through moments
night flowers blooming,
bruised.
Solitude a form ascending
beauty beholding,
surviving decay.
Some Kind Of... - 23/11/2025
Hypnosis,
ptosis,
Monster on my bed.
watch it is just a circular ball.
Never played with in the fall.
Roundabout,
stand about,
Slowly scare.
It moves some more.
Will not jump on the floor.
Some kind,
some find,
round treasures everywhere.
Tear and bare.
timely stare.
Hypnosis,
ptosis,
Monster on my bed.
watch it is just a circular ball.
Never played with in the fall.
Roundabout,
stand about,
Slowly scare.
It moves some more.
Will not jump on the floor.
Some kind,
some find,
round treasures everywhere.
Tear and bare.
timely stare.
November 23, 2025 at 7:46 AM
Some Kind Of... - 23/11/2025
Hypnosis,
ptosis,
Monster on my bed.
watch it is just a circular ball.
Never played with in the fall.
Roundabout,
stand about,
Slowly scare.
It moves some more.
Will not jump on the floor.
Some kind,
some find,
round treasures everywhere.
Tear and bare.
timely stare.
Hypnosis,
ptosis,
Monster on my bed.
watch it is just a circular ball.
Never played with in the fall.
Roundabout,
stand about,
Slowly scare.
It moves some more.
Will not jump on the floor.
Some kind,
some find,
round treasures everywhere.
Tear and bare.
timely stare.
There Will Be More - 23/11/2025
A furry fluff ball
on the bed she rolls,
listening softly
as far away the night bell tolls.
To become something
from a bed, a cushion, a hare,
yesterday was called lately
some time at a country fair.
Lumps cannot jump
just as white men in songs,
will there be more?
A furry fluff ball
on the bed she rolls,
listening softly
as far away the night bell tolls.
To become something
from a bed, a cushion, a hare,
yesterday was called lately
some time at a country fair.
Lumps cannot jump
just as white men in songs,
will there be more?
November 23, 2025 at 7:23 AM
There Will Be More - 23/11/2025
A furry fluff ball
on the bed she rolls,
listening softly
as far away the night bell tolls.
To become something
from a bed, a cushion, a hare,
yesterday was called lately
some time at a country fair.
Lumps cannot jump
just as white men in songs,
will there be more?
A furry fluff ball
on the bed she rolls,
listening softly
as far away the night bell tolls.
To become something
from a bed, a cushion, a hare,
yesterday was called lately
some time at a country fair.
Lumps cannot jump
just as white men in songs,
will there be more?