am i not always giving advice

encouragement of sorts

to be

better in everyday existence

and as you succeed

it makes me happy watching you walk away

independently from these arms that strangle

push you down, hold you tight

wrangle dreams from your mind

so i will would never lose you.

living on the edge

not quite anorexic

not quite dead

years followed like yellow-fin tuna

migrating with dolphin

caught in the same trap

i looked for the silver-lining

the glimmer in someone’s eye

all the same false talking points

“hang on, it will be better -tomorrow

all these tears will dry…”

while you swim against the tide

swallowed by depression

followed by ghosts of pride

White Sands Gulf Art

United States #1 Clearwater Beach. Grab a chair. Be prepared, it’s crowded. Be amazed, it’s wonderfully vibrant. Be satisfied, it’s quality time spent in kindling rays and swallowing beach vibes.

indigo tides wave
kindled rays and swallowed vibes
sands between the toes

Frenchy’s Original Café “Grouper” Mural

Triplet Dolphins welcome you to Pier 60

Momma told me there are plenty of dolphins in the ocean. Make it a game, search for the others in and out of the tide, interspersed throughout Clearwater.

Walking on Sunshine down Mandalay Avenue

Currently I am 1,028 miles away…

The Painting

growing restless

blown-out candles

leave behind smoke

rising stories fill the senses

pictures forming

paints are humming

mixed-up hues of

ochre, verde, sepia,

cadmium orange and cyan

hand is trembling

voice is scratchy

heart stops

catch your breathe

close your eyes -handle

of brush levitates

and down splashes your sweat

amongst the tears of increasing years

quiet, taut and invisible

signs of life approaching

nearer the canvas

and soon your caught

ropes and hooks

with a fisher’s net

of scrambled puzzles

non-configured, contorted syllables

poetic verse undressed

and therein lies the bare necessities of The Painting.