GOGH’S FIELDS OF GOLD

IT is dark down here & this awful reality
satisfies the ego and frightens the soul
but makes a state of distraction
; an abomination –an abhorrence
for all that it implies -a living organism
as a leaf or a particle.

There is no non-life only emptiness & this filth
whose existence is temporary– a first-trimester pregnancy
in an animal –a rejected spiritual soul, it is real-
life in simple terms– the personal growth we are
so ignorant of the brave face of existence –a thing
we will ‘never’ ever come to terms
with –the vagaries of Time which call to us
‘cross the bridge’ & walk the Yellow Streets
of Van Gogh.

Hav you never ever walked the edge of fields of
so yellow they smell of gold — the wheat fields
of Vincent Van Gogh: he was a bastard
to most but greatly to ‘self’ –> killed the personality
but never the Art
nor the Soul

:: 04.29.2020 ::
rev: 0-10.3.2020 ::

About EPRobles

Writer, Artist. I like to paint abstract acrylic images onto canvas. I love to read everything, and I especially enjoy science, philosophy, and the arts. I'm new to the blog experience and I very much enjoy it! I hope to learn as much about all the features that WordPress offers and thank you -- my visitor -- for taking time to read my words. Peace and love... View all posts by EPRobles

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