Keepin’ It Real

This world is filled with illusions.  Not the good ones.  Not the ones found on acid trips.  Or, mushroom highs.  We are a society that provides too many ways in which to dislike yourself.  

That is until the ‘real’ people take a stand!

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Self to Self

 

 

I used to think that I could never lose anyone if I photographed them enough. In fact, my pictures show me how much I’ve lost.

Nan Goldin

 

My Crowded Mind

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cool dampness fills the air…

attended by a lack of dreams…

a lack of care.

misogyny has shut the lights off to a tiny world.

these are the days, no one will want to remember.

lone docks, lone chairs…

baskets of all types…

with their own kind of despair.

have i been, kind today?

have i not judged?

my own private nudge!

a romantic…

minus the semantics.

a lone dock…

a lone chair…

a ticket holder at the bigoted fair.

Harvesting the Seed

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He had never been an intended farmer

And, perhaps, Mr. Frost knew he never would be

Unintentionally up in the notches…working the land with hands calloused by tragedy

Cursed tractors, sullen cows, an unconditional hell’s paradise

Baskets of discoveries…In one’s own unmade garden

 

Trained to farm the land…Once gone…

I had no intention of going back.

Searching the pavement for creativity

poking about the neon

digging in dollar signs and dimes for deliberate self-discovery

The writings on the wall were slipping away into graffiti

So, maybe Mr. Frost had been an intended farmer, after all

His seeds of thought burning a hole in my pocket

His travels into struggle…

Left open for me green fields of self-discovery

 

Androgyny

Ill constructed are the flowers…and, often prose.

An angst cloaks the dirt from my shivered window.

No comfort found when gazing from them…with bows in my hair.

How simple it would have been?imageedit_1_8080166161

To glance about…upon this, a shaded afternoon.

Perhaps,even with a lightness that could promise pastels to a possible passerby.

Intrinsically, this soft hue, always falls short of my fingertips.

And, does not reflect my mind.

But in my hand…

big and bold, black and white, green and tan.

Impressed upon me…the water and color…for my land.

Hues for both woman and man.

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