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...
i dream sometimes — i dream
of expansive fields
of flowery love where fear
does not exist is what i
sometimes dream: i dream
i woke up within this dream
and could do anything my spirit
and heart wish’d : i wish to
be within expansive fields of
flowery love where fear does
not exist is what i sometimes
dream.
i ONCE stood taller than
LOVE : which smacked me down
to the lonely being i am.
Old and wasted i continued:
until my last breath not hearing
anything but my own dying heart
beat.
………………..thunder………………….magic………………..lightning………………..
…………..opened gaPING MOUths of small wonders ||||||
hiding and running /death ensues\ painting and scribbling prose……………..
are the little thoughts of BEING .:} MEAN IS THIS HEART IF FUCKED WITH….(disclaimer)
I saw a light within the crack of the SKY
staring into my Soul within the blink of an EYE
THE hat man within the dark will bring h is check
(never talk with strangers) s TRANGER daNGER
no more tears 0–> EATING TOXIC GAS …
the mouth goes on to say : IT BEGINS
no singular eye can watch my (screaming) MOVES:
NO MORE TEARS
NO MORE TEARS NO MORE TEARS
THE glint of green pastures she views
while grieving and leaving:
oh how love is a nest like
dove’s song: the only one
upon Earth she loves_____
the fog and cold air
mist and river
hills and shade; love is a lot
like a beautiful smile
IF i shall never hear a note again
what of my vision — a forest calls
but no sound/ i, the failure, of
all that is nature and of words.
so must my mouth SCREAM
but my head hears not [even the
blacksmith striking his anvil]
so i am the deaf poet
that shall never hear my own words\
locked inside a cedar box for all
seasons.
WITHIN all this time
within my frail skin
my mighty heart still lies
she made a warm soup
while i wandered as a lonely
cloud that floats outside
a window while at night (dreaming):
A host of tellings —
a sickle of amazing sun-honey
lit hearts — beside the lake,
beneath trees, we thrived &
danced within the immortal winds.
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