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In my opinion, there is nothing more beautiful or tragic than an artist's mind.
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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Poetry & Free Verse

illustrations traced on a windshield

He was deep in thought

Eyelids bowing to

An audience of stars

In a sporadic distribution

Of light shining

Through a sky darkened

By nightfall smeared

With an abandoned storm

As the silhouette

Of his perfect nose

Lined the footsteps

Of a candescent moon

As it caught flight

With eternity somersaulting

On his muffled words

Escaped from lips

Barely parted and

I watched in slow motion

As sentiments landed

Before and after

Everything immortal

"Darlin, I love you."

And we disappeared on the wind.

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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Poetry & Free Verse
illustrations traced on a windshield
He was deep in thought
Eyelids bowing to
An audience of stars
In a sporadic distribution
Of light shining
Through a sky darkened
By nightfall smeared
With an abandoned storm
As the silhouette
Of his perfect nose
Lined the footsteps
Of a candescent moon
As it caught flight
With eternity somersaulting
On his muffled words
Escaped from lips
Barely parted and
I watched in slow motion
As sentiments landed
Before and after
Everything immortal
"Darlin, I love you."
And we disappeared on the wind.
#romance  #poetry  #philosophy  #love  #spirituality 
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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Poetry & Free Verse

the angels balanced on the waxed horsetail of her bow, and the violin cried 

My crooked spine is

An untuned organ 

Knotted fibers of

Ivory tusks 

Keys blackened by ash and

The light that unveils them 

They, hidden in the shadows and

Kneeling under Jacob's eye

A ladder cast

Ascending for forgiveness 

And bent by

My scoliosis weight

My prayer curved by 

Shoulder blades

Erupting with

Wings tattered and yellow

Stained feathers plucked and

Spanning too wide 

For my set heavy'd

By befallen steps 

The weight of charisma 

In a dogmatic seance 

Unearthed and lurking

With its iridescent flesh

Ricocheting the echo

Of a bird's last call

And sleep eludes me 

As I pace back to the beginning

To the edge of the shore

Picking at their eyes

Sealed shut with sand 

And my unkempt nails

Are dirtied by the truth 

But cleansed

By the same 

  In glory. 

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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Poetry & Free Verse
the angels balanced on the waxed horsetail of her bow, and the violin cried 
My crooked spine is
An untuned organ 
Knotted fibers of
Ivory tusks 
Keys blackened by ash and
The light that unveils them 
They, hidden in the shadows and
Kneeling under Jacob's eye
A ladder cast
Ascending for forgiveness 
And bent by
My scoliosis weight
My prayer curved by 
Shoulder blades
Erupting with
Wings tattered and yellow
Stained feathers plucked and
Spanning too wide 
For my set heavy'd
By befallen steps 
The weight of charisma 
In a dogmatic seance 
Unearthed and lurking
With its iridescent flesh
Ricocheting the echo
Of a bird's last call
And sleep eludes me 
As I pace back to the beginning
To the edge of the shore
Picking at their eyes
Sealed shut with sand 
And my unkempt nails
Are dirtied by the truth 
But cleansed
By the same 

  In glory. 
#poetry  #philosophy  #streamofconsciousness  #spirituality  #random 
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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Poetry & Free Verse

Torn Thoughts of Fleshy Remnants

A pulmonary artery of

Mouths wide open

With phosphorus steam

Erupting with suffocation

And gaping like fish 

Washed ashore and beaten

And rinsed by God's tears

Humanity fossilizing

For tomorrow's history

With boney fragments of hope

Left forgotten and behind

On Earth's battered path 

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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Poetry & Free Verse
Torn Thoughts of Fleshy Remnants
A pulmonary artery of
Mouths wide open
With phosphorus steam
Erupting with suffocation
And gaping like fish 
Washed ashore and beaten
And rinsed by God's tears
Humanity fossilizing
For tomorrow's history
With boney fragments of hope
Left forgotten and behind
On Earth's battered path 

#philosophy  #spirituality  #culture 
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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Haiku

Darkness

The wind carries it

A long face draped in the plague 

Stand strong against it 

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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Haiku
Darkness
The wind carries it
A long face draped in the plague 
Stand strong against it 
#poetry  #philosophy  #spirituality 
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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Stream of Consciousness

notes from the couch

The first thing I heard this morning were birds chirping. A lyrically deceiving sound on the first day of January. But, in the middle of winter, it was as though a nest of eggs hatched prematurely--but ready. Perhaps they possess an aviary sense for doom, like a canary in a mine when the gas rises. And perhaps knowing that Spring isn't guaranteed this year, the baby birds chose to live while they still have time, and they reached through their shell towards the light.

And they sang with glory upon their first --and perhaps final-- breath.

And that sky grew morose today. It is early afternoon, and the sun has yet to make an appearance. The sky is a heavy grey like smoke rising slowly after an air strike. And the aftermath settled, just below the horizon of where one would assume the sun rests.

I can see human bodies reflecting reversely above and against the grey glare, and they are scattered in mind and spirit. It appears that their souls were removed or altogether disintegrated, and now all that is visible are the empty casks of flesh shuttering in slow motion upon these long cement tongues of cold intersections and heckling crossroads.

And in pursuit of a proper burial, the people here open doors leading to rooms without windows. They seal envelopes without addresses. And make phone calls from serviceless phone booths. And these white rooms are sterile: they are kept at just above freezing and contain no furniture. Without choice, the people climb into the scorched light sockets to escape the unnerving silence that echoes in the vast claustrophobia of their own minds.

And following that maze through an underground paradise, the walls are papered in foil. Metallic images of unclaimed dreams are drawn in marker by children.

And the melancholy ache of a desire to return to a place for which you've never been ascends.

As the people struggle along the narrowing corridor of this new Hell, they smear the drawings with their broken shoulders, and the colors seep into a brown smudge of forgotten hope.

And that is where it all ends.

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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Stream of Consciousness
notes from the couch
The first thing I heard this morning were birds chirping. A lyrically deceiving sound on the first day of January. But, in the middle of winter, it was as though a nest of eggs hatched prematurely--but ready. Perhaps they possess an aviary sense for doom, like a canary in a mine when the gas rises. And perhaps knowing that Spring isn't guaranteed this year, the baby birds chose to live while they still have time, and they reached through their shell towards the light.

And they sang with glory upon their first --and perhaps final-- breath.

And that sky grew morose today. It is early afternoon, and the sun has yet to make an appearance. The sky is a heavy grey like smoke rising slowly after an air strike. And the aftermath settled, just below the horizon of where one would assume the sun rests.

I can see human bodies reflecting reversely above and against the grey glare, and they are scattered in mind and spirit. It appears that their souls were removed or altogether disintegrated, and now all that is visible are the empty casks of flesh shuttering in slow motion upon these long cement tongues of cold intersections and heckling crossroads.

And in pursuit of a proper burial, the people here open doors leading to rooms without windows. They seal envelopes without addresses. And make phone calls from serviceless phone booths. And these white rooms are sterile: they are kept at just above freezing and contain no furniture. Without choice, the people climb into the scorched light sockets to escape the unnerving silence that echoes in the vast claustrophobia of their own minds.

And following that maze through an underground paradise, the walls are papered in foil. Metallic images of unclaimed dreams are drawn in marker by children.

And the melancholy ache of a desire to return to a place for which you've never been ascends.

As the people struggle along the narrowing corridor of this new Hell, they smear the drawings with their broken shoulders, and the colors seep into a brown smudge of forgotten hope.

And that is where it all ends.
#poetry  #philosophy  #spirituality  #culture 
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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Poetry & Free Verse

Listen

the uneasy night was

moonless and haunted

and belching with thunder

it cracked with delight

borne from the laughter

found rumbling in nature

and somersaulting from youth

mercy symbolized by age

and their audible joy

spat wet from their mouths

with the pits of their cherries

saturated in hope

and echoing their innocence

in the howl of a wolf

the harmony of new sound

interrupted the beat

from the hollow of a stray

to the gypsies circling home

behind birds without wings

and gazing back at the heckler

the witnesses fell blind

in collective hypnosis

all were forgotten in doubt

and lost to a flood

for the endless coal paths

burying reality reborn

in an anxious dimension

defining stars as origami

their tails wagged with nerves

as they swallowed the Earth whole

for the comfortable sadness

pulsing stagnate in regret

their pain runneth over

into humanity's chipped cup

for the horns of infection

oozing thick until healed

like tumbleweeds on the wind

their freedom was found

at the crossbones of loss

and in their prayer fallen numb

and as fate bounced and brought

forth the rustle of spirits

perching hunched on the branches

with a gait slowed by chains

Evil challenged Good

exposing their fists in the light

and undressing the shadows

illuminating God in reverse

their possession of soil

reflected a fantastical parallel

for my mind sees life chatter

on splintered yellow film

while aging my wine to

imitate the motor's whoosh

of a faulty projector and

through its waterfall lens

the prisms distort

the faces of mummies

embalmed with the soot

of their burnt bones and flesh

and with duct tape obstructing

the dialect of tongue

they stuff cotton in their ears

and pull their visors too low

over wallpaper veils

protecting kryptonite truth

weaved tight with whore's lace

and tie-dyed in shades of blue

the actors walk drunk

stumbling sideways on stone

and in their relentless parade

the grand marshal has died

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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Poetry & Free Verse
Listen
the uneasy night was
moonless and haunted
and belching with thunder
it cracked with delight
borne from the laughter
found rumbling in nature
and somersaulting from youth
mercy symbolized by age
and their audible joy
spat wet from their mouths
with the pits of their cherries
saturated in hope
and echoing their innocence
in the howl of a wolf
the harmony of new sound
interrupted the beat
from the hollow of a stray
to the gypsies circling home
behind birds without wings
and gazing back at the heckler
the witnesses fell blind
in collective hypnosis
all were forgotten in doubt
and lost to a flood
for the endless coal paths
burying reality reborn
in an anxious dimension
defining stars as origami
their tails wagged with nerves
as they swallowed the Earth whole
for the comfortable sadness
pulsing stagnate in regret
their pain runneth over
into humanity's chipped cup
for the horns of infection
oozing thick until healed
like tumbleweeds on the wind
their freedom was found
at the crossbones of loss
and in their prayer fallen numb
and as fate bounced and brought
forth the rustle of spirits
perching hunched on the branches
with a gait slowed by chains
Evil challenged Good
exposing their fists in the light
and undressing the shadows
illuminating God in reverse
their possession of soil
reflected a fantastical parallel
for my mind sees life chatter
on splintered yellow film
while aging my wine to
imitate the motor's whoosh
of a faulty projector and
through its waterfall lens
the prisms distort
the faces of mummies
embalmed with the soot
of their burnt bones and flesh
and with duct tape obstructing
the dialect of tongue
they stuff cotton in their ears
and pull their visors too low
over wallpaper veils
protecting kryptonite truth
weaved tight with whore's lace
and tie-dyed in shades of blue
the actors walk drunk
stumbling sideways on stone
and in their relentless parade
the grand marshal has died
#scifi  #poetry  #science  #philosophy  #streamofconsciousness  #politics  #spirituality  #culture  #humanity 
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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Stream of Consciousness

Another Untitled Ramble

A hummingbird struggles

For balance with

Broken wings 

As she attempts

To keep flight

Against the wind

An obstinate force 

With an adversarial

Atmosphere fighting and 

Her flock escaped

Sucking the nutrients

From barren shrubbery

With blossoms forgotten and

The hummingbird's judgment

Weakened and dismal

Slicing my heart

With your rusty buckle

I will drain the pain

Inflicted sans reason

And tricked

By my own reality 

Apologies worthless and

Sentenced to Guilt

A night ruined

Under an unforgiving sky 

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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Stream of Consciousness
Another Untitled Ramble
A hummingbird struggles
For balance with
Broken wings 
As she attempts
To keep flight
Against the wind
An obstinate force 
With an adversarial
Atmosphere fighting and 
Her flock escaped
Sucking the nutrients
From barren shrubbery
With blossoms forgotten and
The hummingbird's judgment
Weakened and dismal

Slicing my heart

With your rusty buckle
I will drain the pain
Inflicted sans reason
And tricked
By my own reality 
Apologies worthless and
Sentenced to Guilt
A night ruined
Under an unforgiving sky 
#poetry  #spirituality 
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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Poetry & Free Verse

untitled

I died overnight

Or maybe it took a few days

But it happened fast

That much I know

And it gave me new eyes

And a fresh set of ears

And an opened heart

But I am alone here

In this limbic state of 

Death.

I have had a few visitors

But none have stayed long

The water is crimson

My Blood is Your Wine 

And the air is thick

Soot fills my lungs

And I exhale Your ghosts

I watch them dance in the moonlight

Clapping and 

I keep the beat of 

A rhythm unheard by The Others

I wish I was drunk

Or delusional

Like Them.

Organizing my priorities

Based on a value

Decided by humans

Unwarranted decisions

Lost in the crowd and 

A need

Prompted by fear

But wait

I am drunk.

But drunk in my current state 

Of death

Indescribable and 

It doesn't help The Situation

I cannot belong 

As an outsider

Traveling through

This dusty town of 

Judgmental evangelists 

Preaching to the choir but 

I am fevered with

An unending illness

And the only escape

Is death from This Death

But how do I tie 

A noose seen in movies

And realized honest

In the history of the South

Breaking my own neck 

To drain the indifference

And the awareness that haunts me 

I am dead

But not dead enough

I need to escape 

But I am aware of the myth 

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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Poetry & Free Verse
untitled
I died overnight
Or maybe it took a few days
But it happened fast
That much I know
And it gave me new eyes
And a fresh set of ears
And an opened heart
But I am alone here
In this limbic state of 
Death.
I have had a few visitors
But none have stayed long
The water is crimson
My Blood is Your Wine 
And the air is thick
Soot fills my lungs
And I exhale Your ghosts
I watch them dance in the moonlight
Clapping and 
I keep the beat of 
A rhythm unheard by The Others
I wish I was drunk
Or delusional
Like Them.
Organizing my priorities
Based on a value
Decided by humans
Unwarranted decisions
Lost in the crowd and 
A need
Prompted by fear
But wait
I am drunk.
But drunk in my current state 
Of death
Indescribable and 
It doesn't help The Situation
I cannot belong 
As an outsider
Traveling through
This dusty town of 
Judgmental evangelists 
Preaching to the choir but 
I am fevered with
An unending illness
And the only escape
Is death from This Death
But how do I tie 
A noose seen in movies
And realized honest
In the history of the South
Breaking my own neck 
To drain the indifference
And the awareness that haunts me 
I am dead
But not dead enough
I need to escape 
But I am aware of the myth 
#poetry  #philosophy  #spirituality  #culture  #society 
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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Stream of Consciousness

i swear this is just sleepless brain talk

Two groups of twenty

In ten duplet pairs

Separated in doubles

With five partners of four

Twice multiplied once

Then they divided in half 

Mirror images blinking 

In a double-time start

At the beginning of the end

And the finishing commencement 

The females face males

And the men back the ladies

They are one gene morphed

In fragments exploding

In their two groups of twenty 

And two duplet pairs

They reside on the left as 

They spread evenly to the right 

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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Stream of Consciousness
i swear this is just sleepless brain talk
Two groups of twenty
In ten duplet pairs
Separated in doubles
With five partners of four
Twice multiplied once
Then they divided in half 
Mirror images blinking 
In a double-time start
At the beginning of the end
And the finishing commencement 
The females face males
And the men back the ladies
They are one gene morphed
In fragments exploding
In their two groups of twenty 
And two duplet pairs
They reside on the left as 
They spread evenly to the right 
#poetry  #philosophy  #nonsense 
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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Poetry & Free Verse

Come With --

Rush with and into me 

With the force of water

Bursting from a firehouse

Of our unyielding passion 

And as our words rise above 

The scant panhandlers below 

Our intuition will overwhelm

The glass walls of reality

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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Poetry & Free Verse
Come With --
Rush with and into me 
With the force of water
Bursting from a firehouse
Of our unyielding passion 
And as our words rise above 
The scant panhandlers below 
Our intuition will overwhelm
The glass walls of reality
#romance  #poetry  #philosophy  #spirituality  #culture 
13
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Juice
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