What Is Bliss? But to have ones heart saturated with all the best ingredients. Chocolate powder, swirled into crystal cubed, brown sugar bumps. Mixed with chilled white milk and Stirred inside endless clarity; Only to be baked into a soft edible fever. Coated with crying, frothed cream, just happy to be apart of something. Half-done,…
Tag: Art
Eden- I Am But A Visitor
“And in the beginning, life, like shattered shells splintering the solitude of a slumbering tounge, it slit, spilt and fertilized nebulous dreams. And just like that and oh so suddenly, with the wind against my teeth I was born. Slapped, belligerent and bear chested Heart raged & reclined against varnished rubber ribs, clinging to the…
What Crones Up Crows Drown
And though his bones they have bled into oat, ash & dust, his stories, quite blahsensical, they shall ever never rust. Whilst parliamentary principles perabulated in his head, he laid upon his pillow, solving problematic proverbs in his bed. Swashbuckling tales wrapped in a small trim blue skirt as she holds a ‘drink me’ bottle beginning…
To The BE of Things
You didn’t. I did. We aren’t. * So now sway and tilt and droop, I will not. * No more, Lull, mum, quiet, Little sounds. * I’m going, to the Be of things. * Big, brazen, beautifully bazaar. * No more Twinkled eyes, prancing pain and panicked, pleasing. But barefoot and bold, boomingly, blissful un-bashful- beats! *…
Mozart’s Beak
“Sometimes I stand in one place,
but I am not there
In this place,
you do not know me. I stand heart swelling between my pores
pushing
this scared crows beak through atmospheric places fighting for MORE!
Ruin and rapture, left to swim amongst the stars I soar.”
My Scarlet Remains
Through Scarlet birds I am reminded of all that is life;
electric love wailing about in windy theatrics,
perpetually pouring itself into open lipped ventricles,
dying for the filling.
Cosmic Musings
We All Yearn For Something
The miraculous
Its everywhere
The human experience
Panoramic pleasantries
A benign gallery of humanity
Unlimited
Potential
Pried from gripping flesh
This sculpted sand will not remain.
Stuck Outside The Dream
In love inside two worlds, I, we, both were trapped.
A communion derailed by the coming of the sun and the yawning of the moon.”
Of The Night
-Of The Night- (Click on link for entire poem) “Watching for the world to look up, seductive in its gaze, it’s cloaked in the madness of ticking hearts conjoined with collapsed lips. That heavy night Like the coat of a romanced black stallion it rouses embracing and beckons the moon. And I like every creature, with one…
This Present Place
Blood invested kisses pushing upon a bedtime sky
reflected the space hidden in a deep well inside.
With tireless tenderness, it seeped of all her callings.
🎨 ART on the Run 