Eyes glued to screens. Fingers fastened to keys. Characters are not novel, just 140 long. Nightly news! Death’s script flung from monotone lips. The hour skit a regurgitation of third world shit. First world filter cleans so we can swallow. Popcorn that is… Crunch! Buttered morsels dissolve. Fingers greased with privilege. Eat, tweet, repeat. Screens smeared […]
I wrote a couple poems this morning; Releasing thoughts is important and bottling emotions is dangerous to say the least. Although writing isn’t a cure perhaps it is a permanent insight to the root, the roots of joy or sorrow. After such release I can move on and forward or upward.
I’m no Shakespeare but you don’t need a degree in writing to make a story; to create a feeling, realization or actualization. Writing is often a reflection of self for me in particular, the changes in my minds chemistry and life’s situational events. I don’t intend to write anything in particular or film or draw or paint. It’s simply…Outside world internalized and vice versa.
The importance of simply applying pen to paper (even when you dont, didn’t…want to) can be a tool for writers block, frustration, etc. “Apply ass to chair,”. My teacher would say* I read a book called : The Artists Way and it spoke of writing or journaling for one hour each morning and to spend at least one day a week on “an artists vacation”; meaning to spend one day a week doing things new or… finding inspiration, joy and possibly profound. Don’t become captive to a routine, life was not meant to be lived like a “to do list”.
I truly love wordpress for the writers I’ve encountered. I love it for its photography and news. For the most part we’re here to create, express, inform and just maybe… change the world, one thought and line at a time. Thanks for following me, I follow anyone following me and am often overwhelmed but I thank each and everyone for contributing to the artistic processes.
I try to keep normality absent. / As if I could mask it.
Transcend gender / transgender madd Kidd.
A retired liar /open book on fire;
Trying to inspire….
Jumping fences / caught on hooks and wire.
I can envision a promise land.
Tearing my clothes, Expose myself, / Dawn at hand.
Embrace the fate over the broken gate. / Even amidst the hundreds of broken promises.
I envision this grace / and the sacred place awaits.
We here now….
I bring my twin with me; polarity / solar ascend from our anatomy.
2 spirited 2 spirits 2 spearheaded /to a new birth of clarity.
Syncopated vibrations / soaring auras.
Space time gravitating towards us.
The sentiment unprecedent /We are auroras borealus.
More than God can handle.
More than the laws of nature.
Finally enter the state /open the gate
cause fate awaits us.
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