Widowed Without A Manual

Some of us grieve longer then others. I will not be rushed out of my love, that still inhabits my heart.

Broken Sleep

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Photo on 2017-08-14 at 10.54 AM

 

 

 

 

 

Broken sleep————
my brain attempts —-to
continue at a normal pace
broken sleep

Sentences drift
half phrases — repeat
no coherent, trace
nothing but
blank
endless space

Photo on 2017-08-14 at 10.56 AM

Darkness surrounded by a moat
this is where I stay afloat
void of sight
void of sound
nothing touching
all around

Brocken sleep ——
starves my mind
can my soul go blind?
excuse me while I
flatline _____________________
august 14 2017

 

 

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In The Artists Mind

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Many Doors To Open

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It feels like everything I look at is a painting or a sculpture. I look at my sewing machine and instantly crop it and take a photo with my mind. I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror and it becomes light trapped in a still photo.

My mind automatically clicks, drags and crops what I am looking at. To the outside world Artists may seem off balance or slow or unfocused but truthfully you could not be further from the truth!
To make matters more complicated when you throw in the desire to add and or organize words in long form or poem you add even more to the complexities of an ARTIST MIND.

Think of how your computer gives you that spinning wheel when you have too many windows open on your screen. Well, that is what we deal with ALL THE TIME.

A SONG will…

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This gallery contains 3 photos

Saffron On The Line

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Photo on 2017-08-01 at 8.01 AM #2

saffron hangs with folds of gold
the morning sun draws white lines on each fold
I fear my sunflowers will show their faces while I am gone
droplets of moister hangs onto the tip of the heavy leaves
transparent and delicate yet I can sense its weight

for a moment the air that surrounds me 
fills with a fragrance 
of a flower bidding good morning to the sun
my eyes, drawn to only one
amongst a wave of deep purple
only one looks back at me
fluttering in the still air

then it comes
sensing the opportunity
that moment when the world knows you are distracted
when it knows you feel at ease and secure
then it comes
like a hawk flying over his terrain
waiting for that moment
the moment when it is least suspected
when you have mindlessly left the door to your heart open
when you have let your guard down
it walks in and fucks with you
smiles, camouflage the dagger
I repeat myself
I repeat my self
I repeat myself
out of disappointment in myself
anger points only to me, 
for only I am to blame
weeks have passed where I have felt secure
feeling that I may be able to live
some kind of life
the universe knows when there is a soft spot
evil and good fly side by side
there is no real dissimilarity

what road must I walk next
must my entire life be the endless turning of pages
from a large book of lessons
perhaps, my moments of feeling secure
my naked feet on the warm earth
is the wrong path
perhaps I am not to get comfortable
I am not to be here
could that be the next lesson

I am so conditioned to please
so conditioned it that I feel I need to throw up
why is an open, extended hand perceived as weakness
perhaps it’s the old saying
survival of the fittest
there are no solutions
no crystal ball
just grin and bear it till the end

my saffron hangs on the line
all tangled unable to move back or forth
the symbolism is uncanny

This gallery contains 1 photo.