everything is Art, Art is Everything.
in my skin and watching from this distance that invoked oaken passage opening go within to see the other side first inhale the fresh and the green
By susan marie loehe4 years ago in Poets
No more today my mind shoved into gray and dirty spaces tragedy of filthy drama for everyone's sake leave off cease pulling my thoughts into overflowing sewers
can be imbibed without ravage will negate the occurence more than temporarily there is no other story some dream on the morrow's pay
crusted cans empty hands the music plays to empty stands walk away no way out but through the greasy stare the lighter's flare
quick fresh morning foosteps bring the light of the law someone known well visiting for a moment briefly she uses no door
In the cold hard ground roots are moving without a sound silent soothing grooves spreading out so far and wide the branches above
straighten the spine the clenched shut forehead releasing open open the lungs open with the deepening breath there is no enemy advancing
with what dampened spirit darkened by the lack of constructed windows barred by self imposed restriction are these bars fashioned?
there is only one meaningful thread it flows as water and flies, spider silk above the trees unbreakably beautiful self generating
no fighting. for wicked is infectious by road of pure ugly. no fighting. 'silence,' once thought 'would disallow criticism.'
we strap you tightly with a weighty cloak of your brother's flesh next we will place a wide metal bar way back into your molars
bring solfeggio into the equation throw wishes about revelations field the overwhelm of awakening oneness spanning over hope