Read some of my stuff at an open mic night tonight .. i have horrible public speaking skills especially when I’m reading my own art, but I think it went well?
I guess I had fun :)
Midnight Meanderings
The first post is the namesake :D
Medium
Leaves slapped and bonded to pages,
an empty frame held up to the sun,
a rock that will last throughout the ages,
all of these things, are not art.
A charcoal rendering of summer leaves,
a delicate portrait painted of the sun,
a rock chiseled as one who grieves,
all of these things, are art.
Solemn nature in all its stages,
confined in theoretical cages.
When everything is said and done,
art and nature can rarely be one.
Carnations bred of soul and heart,
nature is changed from the start.
Art with nature as its medium achieves,
what every person innately believes.
Benign
Creating cold in still burning night,
choking moments in brutish rage,
leaving all to merely fight,
while teetering softly on the edge.
Navigation through words unfair,
leading on by doing the same,
drowns one with inane despair,
leaves one buried like a worm.
To poke at flame and coddle ash,
brings all forward, one’s faults are seared
upon the body; a vibrant rash,
built upon another, like a garden tiered.
Pulped
My stale me lived, yet was scooped out by apathy and anger.
I withdrew from my hollow me, since I needed to find full.
I lived alone in the mountains for a luring lifetime.
Full found me.
My mission is to appease, and because I learned my lot in life, I let living walk all over my me.
St. Thomas
Shimmering breeze, sticky with salt,
on the edge of nobody’s fault.
Grinding beach, like a cymbal crash,
dreads and smoke exist to thrash.
Translucent jungle, leafy haze,
gliding phantom with mosquito glaze.
Weightless castle, blurry quiet,
throbbing in ceaseless ocean riot.
The back alleyways of a little port town.
The smoke of cannabis forms a crown.
Drifting along from gown to gown.
Willing the gowns to stoop and drown.
Swerve
A quivering uncertainty, an uneasy quake.
The doe sees humanity, a blackened snake.
Bone, blood, skin; her little fawn,
wretched by sin before the dawn.
Longing gaze, little bay,
Through the haze begins decay.
Silent death, so sweet, so raw,
no more breath from a twisted jaw.
Her tiny babe no more will cry,
ribs outstretched toward a glistening sky.
Finality
So here’s a little guy I wrote in Poetry class today:
Way down an earthen path by a tired river
is where my little bottle of stars lives.
Cradle and house of twigs and leaves, the sum of deviance,
forced down my body, however scorched.
Into a finality of reality, to only be still.
Untitled
In the night that is dark and true,
with leathered air and wind of blue,
a curtain of fate with lies so bold
descends upon us so daft and cold.
Ash and burn of beer gone sour
becomes more haunting hour by hour.
To show that us the worries of life
are as faded as a long, dull knife.
Standing brave and real and strong
shows everyone they can’t be wrong.
To each our own, to each their all,
together, never, forever we fall.
No pain in life or hope in death,
all with each soft-passing breath,
A shining light of utter space
A moment lost, tied up with lace.
We now arrive at our long-hid shame,
although we will remain the same,
to lead among the vile and weak
to find what we forever will seek.
Forever
Early to rise for a morning surprise.
I’ve finally woken up.
Jesus, I overslept.
My alarm was never on.
It’s always awkward at first.
To be in that loopy state.
Later, I won’t remember it.
Just a funny sense of normalness.
Fun in the midday sun.
I’m definitely awake now.
Everything is just perfect.
like a honeymoon.
I’m comfortable.
I’m whole.
The world is better when you’re awake.
Because you can, you know,
experience it.
Although, in the back of my mind,
I know that I will fall asleep again.
Weakening in the evening.
I was so tired.
I took a nap. Bad idea.
I slept so badly,
I woke up feeling worse.
Maybe it’s better to stay asleep,
to not have to worry. or try
to please someone else.
But being awake could be
so much better, if you work at it.
The night flight.
I’m so tired.
Not even really tired
just tired of being awake.
I need to just take a nap.
But I can’t.
And I know I can’t.
It’s not just about me.
It has to be reciprocal.
I can’t just go to bed and
expect everything to be
the same when I wake up.
Fuck it, I really need some sleep.
Longing in the early morning
Okay.
I’m awake.
I’m in this for the long haul.
I have to commit.
There’s no other way, really.
But I’ve accepted it.
I embrace it.
I love it.
Everything’s going to be alright.
And as long as I can doze here and there,
I’ll never need to sleep again.
Immersion
It’s dark.
No, it’s waiting.
A quiver of light invites you in.
You enter.
Suddenly you can’t see.
Can’t even think.
The light and sound surrounds you.
You embrace it.
The lows drill into your core.
The highs make your ears ring.
It’s almost uncomfortable.
But you close your eyes and sway.
What’s the significance?
What’s the meaning
of a perfect moment of humanity
strung together by vibrations?
But then you realize.
It lives in us.
