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Time is in the driver seat
Never pulling over to rest.
Fear is singing comforting songs from childhood
About how everything will be alright.
Apathy is carving up Ambition’s body
Throwing the pieces out the window.
Despair follows in the distance
Sweeping Ambition’s remains off the Road.
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It seems to me that
when one is lost
All directions
lead toward the Wrong Way
Burdened with aimlessness
An individual may find comfort
in their present location
Hanging the ‘Home sweet Home’ sign
Yet
When over the horizon one can see
A destination,
Do All directions then lead
To that goal
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Δ
How tranquil the painter upon the hill
Backdrop of Mountains overlooking ocean
Such gifts he is given
–
Standing in tall grass where tall trees once stood
I need to create but this canvass is not mine
These tools are forced on me by bigger people
The frame is cheap pine and weak joined
The canvass unevenly stretched with too little gesso
Two colors on a plastic pallet
One brush
What joy if there is no freedom
So I paint a cave within a Mountain cove
A place to hide
A place to hibernate
–
…and the painter is gone
Δ
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Have you ever come down with a case of the giggles at the same time as your significant other is putting the Move on you. It sure explains why you never see baby clowns!
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Set the expression
Raise the lance
Cross the line of burning fuses
Strife
The cost of Will
Dominated by none
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I am empty
My spirit is hibernating
I have stopped responding
No color
No black
No white
Obscured shades of grey
The Stone foundation cracks
Then turns to sand
The tower falters
I watch blankly
At the impending fall
I feel no remorse
I feel nothing
My flower has dried and fallen
Unfertilized seeds
Are taken by the wind
The stalk turns brown
Then to dust
My life ebbs back into the bulb
Underground
Still and lifeless
Clicking on a image will take you to some of my favorite Writings
In the Court of the White Bear 