What goes up?

In response: it is unpredictable
Whose to say-
They know-
As though tempted to laugh aloud
in the face of morose climes, and
inhale all, indiscriminately.
Felt a scream well up,
savored its aftertaste like a wave
wash over.
Neutralized and
thought long about taking a trip
anywhere away without aim
now
the timing is never right.

What's wrong?
They say that's not like you-
And it is positively not attractive-
you couldn't agree more.
As a tiny and compliant
particle of the whole
that changes matters,
reactively
by the slightest exposure
to radiant negative energy
and bursts into nothing again.
You'll see,
it always works out in the end.







Image credit via Wikipedia, postcard series, The Dream of Flight.

Morning brew

The curtains tickle cool and
I get the impression crisply,
while I can, spots all separate,
the symphony tunes each section,
from deep purple set on dusty rose
to ashen greys settled on lazy lilac
unfolding the old periwinkle sheet
low-lit and pink pill speckled
as though white was never needed
in dawn's steeping sky
tweaking the tune of day
in the background.




Painting By Unknown artist – Artist [Public domain or Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Representation

Only artists know
the sky is never painted
wrong, everything goes.





Painting Sky StudyBy Unknown artist – Artist [Public domain or Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

All (of us) men

All men equally;
She is just a he
that is many more than one.







Painting by By Gretchen Woodman Rogers, 1915 [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Damsel in distress

When the guards eventually abandoned their posts
this is when, creeping out of overflow,
the words gush forth in a rip current-
coalescing in magnetic links-
weaving white sheets with
brown knots, by her dirty hands;
the escape plan finally hatches
and she knew she would now
let it all out.
Deliberated and free
to mouth the lyrics
all wrong.
She sings them
hums them along
in sweet harmony with self,
knowing all the words
had been mis-taken.






Image of painting by Evelyn De Morgan, Hope in a Prison of Despair (1887) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Cool as a coloquillialism

Art is no job
do what you love
and the rest will lead you astray
To Art is human
Thou Art That
I think
therefore

I project
and put out there
the Golden Rule
and a silver bullet ricochets
silence is gilt

words will never hurt
but sorry makes the hurt
go away, they say

don't look back
at the distance that enchants
your view

where dreams come true
when dreams do become
better than you imagined

save for your future, spend wisely
save your wisdom for a rainy day
spend your future, it expires today
experience is the mother of wisdom
wisdom is the child of possibility

Don't be penny wise and pound foolish
count your chickens at the table
a pound of pennies
are thoughts all the same

and endings must come,
good or bad are just
consolations
for you and me
soon to be
ancient art-
i-facts.




Painting by Giovanni Boldini [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

pirahnas

Society needs
pleasure and fear to feed its
lonely appetite.

Photo By Jh12 (Own work) [Public domain], taken at Aquarium of the Americas in 2007 via Wikimedia Commons.