Pixel shaded dust screams passed before me.
The colors ringing loud, " Black and white."
White noise hisses beneath my skull.
The water blue, only my eyes above.
castles raised, clouds falling.
Lead, white, faces drowning.
Heavy rain presses on the soul.
Walking, sluggish mode hints at deprivation.
Windows shallow, hidden stories fold.
Explosions of grey.
Beautiful fields of grass, you run and fall.
A grass hopper at your nose.
A smile, generosity, it hops away.
The clay you've mashed and stoved.
It is the world you bare and hold.
Much like the speaker at your drum.
It molds you to move, physically, mentally.
Distracts you, distracts the insanity.
The feeling of calm and collective.
Self medication and protected.
Pain. Frustrations only cure.
The cuts, the scrapes, the bruises.
To keep sane, we all do this.
For pain to resolve your emotional issue.
Enjoyment means madness but to know what helps is self medication.
Layers of belief rule the morals you behold.
Justification. You are taught how to justify.
After this we recognize on our own.
Some seek, some die, some speak, others lie.
The mind, like a grid, plains never ending.
Plots everywhere, memory access, always pending.
As if someone wants to take the seat out from under me. Never sitting still, can't trust the world. Always ready to stand, too ready to fight.
1 comment:
Hmm. Wow, you've been producing one after the other!
I like the metaphorical twists and vivid storytelling you write in- it creates a new hybrid type of artwork like half-prose, half-poetry.
Awesome!
LOVE YA MUCHO
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