the dead rest
one upon another
with dull, open eyes
and red rum trickling
out the side
of their mouths
unafraid
of the future
because
they no longer
have one.
freedom finally found.
creative writing
Poetry – God as a Fish
Do you know how I
picture God myself?
As one single fish,
enormous,
creative,
scattering millions
of lucky little accidents
like caviar –
deep in his dark sea
caverns,
each tiny black marble
waiting their turn
to wash up
on life’s sandy
shore.
Poetry – This Mental Love
I pour myself out,
a puddle of libation on the floor…
If any of my fancies
ever pleased you,
I beg of you to accept
the mental influences at work.
My affection may be disputable,
but it was never plagiarized.
Of my loyalty,
none could fairly doubt,
as my poverty
is a witness
to my honesty.
Frustrations of Self-Publishing – New Book On the Way!
I spent hours yesterday and will likely spend more time today trying to format my new book for publishing on Amazon. The new book is a combination of some of my more colorful, playful artworks and poetry bits for kids. I used the art itself to inspire the poetry. I think the book will turn out great once I finally get the kinks worked out with the formatting.
One thing I really wish Amazon would do is to make it easier to format books using Word, especially if you use quite a few images in the book. For some reason, Amazon can not recognize when you split up content on different pages in Word, at least not when images are mixed in. It is pretty frustrating sometimes.
Once I get the book done, can proof the hard copy, and get it up for sale, I’ll definitely be sharing it with you all. I hope you will like it!
Poetry – The Wishing Garden
It was as much
as she could do
to believe such
nonsense,
but she went on
to look through
the garden gate
with one eye open,
keeping the other
tightly closed –
wishing for a vision,
praying for a dream.
Poetry – Unicorn Toilet Dreams
Outwit by sleep,
somewhere between dreaming
and awake –
I pick out a unicorn
drinking from a toilet
among the ribbons
of candid snapshots
winding around my head
like cinema still frames.
Poetry – On Chasing Adventure
Doubtless,
the best
has yet to be said
of his wanderings.
Writing of his life
in seclusion,
he says:
Nothing
is more beautiful
than home.
Poetry – Affectionate Anxiety
Oh, affectionate anxiety
the future of those
dependent on self-denial
still trembles
under the quiet twilight
of a fading summer
Poetry – The Joker
Why so serious
the clown asks,
eyes shut tight
trigger cocked
and pulled.
Another fiery
explosion,
corpse fireworks
light an artist’s
starry night
sky.
(This poem pretty much came to me fully written while in the bathtub, as sometimes happens lol. I had to jump out and grab a notebook and pen before I forgot it, leaving wet footprints in the carpet and water droplets on the page. My favorite line by far is “corpse fireworks”! Did you notice my subtle nod to Van Gogh as well? By the way, “The Dark Knight” is my favorite superhero movie of all time because of the great Joker performance!)
