Posted in Photography, Poetry
Missed the deadline
the looming cloud hung high
the strings attached, dangling
her grip was loose
his legs wobbly.

One is never ready
the magic of dreams
once it pushes heads into reality
you feel the tender reed bend
and wrap around beating hearts.

I have gone looking
to find our resting place
here and forevermore.

Posted in Photography, Poetry

The Path

The Path

Trust not in oppression, and become not vain in robbery: if riches increase, set not your heart upon them.

Psalm 62:10

Knowledge is fickle
bending and swaying through mouths
foisted upon a dark horse
swiftly the war mounts
against innocent hearts

fervently pray for peace to return
that men of courage
break this bondage
may we rest our eyes on beauty
and smoke the sky with incense

Since January 2019 I feel a call to be a peacemaker. While i do not entirely understand the path i walk, i do focus on ways to be productive in pursuing peace among men. Differences aside, i do hope we all agree that riches are fleeting. What is everlasting is the spirit of love.

Posted in Musings, Photography, Poetry, Soul Journal

Do not despair

Sunny days are here again
darkness pervades air 
sheltering prayer covers face
one more night to bare

The greatest hazard of all, losing one’s self, can occur very quietly in the world, as if it were nothing at all. No other loss can occur so quietly; any other loss – an arm, a leg, five dollars, a wife, etc. – is sure to be noticed. —Søren Kierkegaard

Have you noticed yourself slipping into the quiet of thought? What can you do to keep yourself afloat? Who answers your call when you shout?

Posted in Art, Memoir, Musings, Photography, Poetry, prose, Soul Journal

Unintended Consequences

I write to write. I paint to see.

How else do i explain my temporary insanity? Other than my thoughts overflow into print. And then i run with them, as a flirt to power.

Decipher 2022

I study human behavior as a hobby. I honestly believe we all strive for attention. What is my excuse? We would all be far better off climbing back into our suitcases and traveling on to a promised land.

Am I beginning to make sense? Finally? I took an Advil Pm 30 minutes ago. And instead of falling asleep, my mind started racing towards the finish line. “Don’t die yet? The best is yet to come!” Oh, how i dearly want to believe.

So i write. A love letter. A flirtatious epic to myself. With all the obvious jargon of the day. And i secretly stash it into a back pocket, hoping someone would come along and steal all the selfish bull crap ive stored. The letter now written, better explained as love hoarded for myself.

Which brings me to my favorite life artist, Van Gogh. He was not part of polite society. Yet he loved the world more than those who bothered to say “Pardon me.” to fellow men waiting in line for their stab at being known. Ironic that the most evasive was the winner.

Aesop understood human behavior far better than i ever will. And i beg to differ with him as well. I dont really want to know much. Just warming myself by the fire and reading the smoke signals left to inform me, i am still alive.

If you make sense of this, you are far smarter than me. Please explain to me how you know!

Into the Abyss
Acrylic on board. Circa 2020 or 2021?
Posted in Musings, Poetry

Twelve Years and Counting

Twelve Years…….and counting?

Hard to believe 12 years has come and gone.

Im not much with words lately. So this post remains brief. Praying for peace to prevail in the world. My faith has staggered for so long. My feet wobbly, my heart faint. I hope you are well. As well as you possibly can be in the midst of what our eyes see. And our ears hear the words so freely flow…. What do any of those words even mean anymore?

Posted in Photography, Poetry

2022

Wind Swept

Im really looking forward to 2022. Wow! Can you believe how far we have come?

Wind swept
my hair in a bun
half-naked neck exposed
getting cold
perturbed by my lack of sense
holding onto a love
having been long dead
The chief beauty about time is 
that you cannot waste it in
advance. The next year, the next
day, the next hour are lying ready
for you, as perfect, as unspoiled,
as if you had never wasted or
misapplied a single moment in all
your life. You can turn over a new
leaf every hour if you choose.

Arnold Bennett
How to Live on 24 Hours a Day
Posted in Art, Musings, Poetry

My blog got me through

Watercoloring. 2021

Connecting with others here on WordPress saved me from utter destruction. And for that i am grateful. And in the process, i have returned to my first love. Creating is my lifeline and my grace to get me through to the other side.

Working Out my Angst. 2021

Growing up i was denied every aspect of self for the greater good. And as much as i love my family, to neglect myself was detrimental in the long run. I lost my brother to suicide. And i still have trouble understanding that relationship. We were very close growing up. Until we drifted apart. Friends until high school, when his sudden budding interest in girls, sparked a fissure.

I will never fully understand suicide. The thoughts of doing away with self, once gripped me too. For thirty some years i thought it through. Jumping from second-story windows, holding my breath under pillows, imaging myself driving the car off a bridge, and holding a knife to my neck while talking to my therapist. I had my ideas. Pills and razors, ropes hanging from rafters. They all presented peace of mind.

I have wandered through the ensuing fog. I have spent countless nights in tears. I sacrificed myself for the greater good all while dying a slow death.

I started practicing art in recent years. Whether photography, watercolor, acrylics, textiles, or garden seeds, i have found my inner sense of life. In my poetic words i have tried to let you see a bit more of what stirs inside. And even though i am unable to practice my first love, dance, i found a place to move internally.

So take your bow. 
See me stand before light.
You saved a life.
In disguise. 2021

Please do not use any of my photos without my permission. Thank you.

To John. 3/1/2008.
Posted in Photography, Poetry

I look out the window, unto a world unknown to me. The colors vibrant and beautiful. The stillness broken by song.

Come sit with me a while. Let us stare into the distance a little longer. And wonder what went wrong.

Posted in Photography, Poetry

Meaningful Gibberish

Talk to Me (October 2021)
toward the celebration of human life 
as a path to transcendence
i skip past Beethoven
land on middle C

swing past his open mouth
dance with clenching teeth
directed at my absurdity

our meaningful gibberish
we only understand
the moans escape the metal bars
i lie down beside the piled cloth

stained with gilded tears
teach me forgiveness afterwards
when a hush descends upon bended knees
Posted in Musings, Photography, Poetry

Finding Lost Thoughts

Go. Get some color on paper. What color am I feeling? It feels like no color could capture the past hours. The colors all appear so dull, uninviting, wordless. With no message whatsoever to speak with. No map to direct feet. No clouds or forests to hide fears.

What color appreciates mystery? 
Do you know?

The ribbon of blue
strikes the sky
boundless energy disperses
the crowd hangs low
and into eternity i ride.