Floral Collab Painting with my daughter Your Ocean I'm feeling drawn to the ocean you're swimming in, Taking my first strokes in your aquatic erotica, Beneath the waves are bony knaves who couldn't tread water, A crystalline heart glistens deep in your sea, I can dive deep enough for I hone my inner chi, We … Continue reading Your Ocean
Ghost Cannon https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-s902jax2tk Where do our ideas come from? The nexus for this concept is interpreted here through painting, music, and poem. Etchings on the ear from a source beyond the seer, Grasp the light tear or watch it dance and fade ether, Zones of zen erase the morning hen scurrying 'round for seed, We've … Continue reading Ghost Cannon
~~~ Truth is a river, Greed is a coffin, Speak of the moment, O'er speak less often, The earth is alive, And in decay, Revitalized, In disarray, Attune mind to heart, Earth goes your way, Attune kindly art, Earth is here to stay, Board up walls and nail them shut, If you want a shell … Continue reading Rivers and Coffins
Some days I mind the ants, Scurrying at my feet in mesmeric trance, One seems to be wandering 'round without a concern at all, Another dutifully carries a parcel to the colony ensuring not to stall, Some days life is brusk and I gambol on by, Undoubtedly killing ants in my trance without a wonder … Continue reading Some Days I Mind The Ants
Cross-eyed jaded, Filigree of childhood faded, Her embraces slackened with time, As I found myself boorishly tracing the rhyme, Her fortress rife with battlements, Sharpens in the waning hours, When sleep grants gentle recompense, I reach for her in narrow hope, Her gates might unwind, This time as one of her kind, The sentries chuckle … Continue reading Cross-Eyed Jaded
Migratory birds, I know they are absurd, Yet I heed every word they sing, For there is nothing to say, With a mind in decay, No idea to relay, When they glance at your face, They're yesterday's dinosaur, Flitting about searching for sunshine upon a wing
Deep beneath sapphire waves, A nacreous sphere tugs my eyes, As a bow bound narrow knave, Calls out in grief-stricken cries, How might a weary boy child find respite these days, When the electric jungles casts mirages in a blurry haze? Do they really need him back posthaste? O'er cries in vain remnants of the … Continue reading Poems 1: Nacreous Sphere
Unfurling Firs 