perched on a prominent edge of me
I ache looking through my dream debris
compelled I sight a prospective ledge
where bits of my gray are shown in sketch
sadly no colors of me do I detect
Under the gray velvet sky, treacherous winds sketch memories for you,
The closed window cannot stop the pain that pierces your soul deeply,
Beyond the horizon, another thirsty soul seeks the same breath of wind,
Like a wild river carving its path through the stones of silence.
Open your eyes and look deep into my silent gaze,
Your path is woven from memories, but ahead lies an endless trail,
You are not at the story's end, for hidden promises await you,
Not now, not yet, for the stars have not said all they have to say.
In the silence between heartbeats and the murmur of the wild wind,
Lies a truth like a shining diamond in the dark,
A silent call to step further on the path of life,
Until the moon caresses your sleep with its gentle light.
You are here, constantly becoming, ready to rise from the ashes,
To face the storms with your steadfast and endless courage,
You are alive, you are now, you are here, and your story is still being written,
It has not ended yet, for infinity awaits you with open arms.
On the shopping chanel
They sold a watch
Not the chanel
I wanted to watch
Inspiration I need
Not a watch
Come on please
Help me plot
Seen a sketch show
The other night
Would you know
Not a drawing in sight
Fact of the mattter
Was total uncanny
A bunch of actors
Revealing their insanity
I shook my head
Questioning my entire
Turned to Bob Ross instead
Didn't help me inspire
Asked a friends help
To Paint my living room
Detail the shelves
Make it all bloom
They turned up confused
With eyes like starlets
As I started to use
My easel and palette
Maybe I had the answer
Hopefully not too late
To copy Frida Kahlo
I tried a self portrait
I set up my Canvas
And got a bit confused
After a few hours past
I got a bit amused
With all to two and fro
Heads start to spinner
I really let it go
And painted the mirror
Maybe Art ain't my passion
As I can't find Inspiration
I could try Fashion
But sharp pins and perspiration
Not to mention scissors slips
May be a big disaster
Fingers and meat that fits
Like that dress by Lady Ga Ga
I drew you today,
your butt came out too big,
your arms weren't as broad as I wanted them to be,
your hair is fine.
There are no hands and feet,
there is no face.
I wanted to show your chest,
your hair that grows there,
I wanted to show your muscles,
I wanted to show more,
but I didn't.
It didn't come out as good as I wanted it to,
abstract is fine.
Maybe one day you'll pose for me.
SKETCH
quick draw
for sure
visual
diaries
conveying
a sense
of
performative
persona
introverted
&
private
together
in
a
convention
of
representations
imagined
& figurative
self-perceptions
reflective intervals
ambient in tone
& atmosphere
sustained
solo simplicity
in
floating repetition
expressive
dissonance
of symmetrics
in
blurred suspense
delicate progressive
serenity
furnishing
ethreal
resonations
satie on m.youtube.com/watch?v=FS6o3qFimsc gynopedia
unconventional
rendering
in simply
configured
allegory
of
symbolised
conceptual
insights
metorphorically
measured
motifs
of
amplified
interplay
in
an aura
of
ambiguity
in evocatives
gestures
Words to say,
images in sound
voiced
aloud
a
spoken
interplay
of the here &now
ethereal
&passing
an impression
in a listener ear
the cadence
of a voice
intones
& the two-way process
comes alive
OPEN one breath
phonetic aspects
primarily
for performance
bridging
literary
& musical
rhythm
slack or strong
high or low
taut or loose
in
one-breath
length
verse
sans
visual
stanzas
coalesce
in
openness
on
the
page
field
of
spaces&breaks
sans grammatical
symbols
in
intuitive
cadence
an interpretative
interplay
unique
to the happening
words
emerge organically
as blossom
from
inspiration
&
embrace
a
natural
placement
to
visually
evolve
into
verse
in
a harmonious
dance
twixt content
& form
unfurling
as a flower
in the sun
on
the emotional landscape
of symbiotic
thought
becoming
a
rich tapestry
perceivable
wordplay
indentation
spacing &
line break
woven cadences
of expressive
effect
soft-eyed doe
encircled in mist
mesmerized
I stop-stare
you leap away-disappear
my soul diminished
Golden dewdrop spread on gray window sill,
warm rays from the summer sunburst at will,
sprightly cheep from high flier mourning bird,
pulsating heart aroused by what I
heard
Gorgeous is an adjective for viewing,
colors on an august sketch pad brewing,
vivid blooms awash in swaying basket,
visual trinkets stored in made up casket
Brown leafs strewn that capture noonday wonder,
elevate a world from going under,
pathway to a peak or slope’s dream patch,
eternal beauty words can never match
Heaven at my doorstep every second,
fantastic bliss around me now beckoned,
mountains, valleys, trickling streams, verges,
a burgeoning green world city surges
Rainbow fountain mesmerizing stunned throng,
eye catcher sprinkled hue a bright mist prong,
gorgeous is that gift wrapped term used above,
blue skyline veil from brushstroke that I wove
Folks who make life out of Vetch,
For their farms heading on ketch,
Their future they sometimes sketch;
None thinks he’s the truest wretch,
For labor does some hope fetch,
Though, Vetch would their choosers stretch…
Now, Hot Debates in the ketch!
“I can with Vetch accounts stretch,
Farther move from being a wretch.”
“But in Gold some their names etch
And Vetch can’t such nice dreams sketch”
“No! Vetch can the Big Name fetch
Quit the wretch that makes one retch”
So, say no more against Vetch…
Simple, dumb, sinful
and ever so tolerant
of those who, despite
their complete insincerity
still managed to convince you
that you in your wholeness
as a human being
was worth no more
than the judgement of strangers.
I'm still here.
This rotten feeling.
I know it's you.
I'm still here, I know
Deep down, you always wanted to die...
...right?
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