December 2019 – Page 4 – Artistic Apathy

Thank You For 80 Followers

Recently I’ve hit eighty followers and I just want to say thank you — from the bottom of my heart.

It’s been a long journey of barely over a year but I’m always excited to see what’s on the horizon.

I love interacting with all of you and you all motivate me to write.

I want to share a small art collection, a series of poems or what have you. I like to think of them as expressions. These all came about in a day but are all things that are very current in my life today. They represent what I’m going through, inner conflicts, struggles, illuminating ideas and most of all a new disposition.

For all these reasons I will be calling this work Paradigm Shift.

Here they are, for your enjoyment.

Low Hanging Fruit

Sly Serpent

A Double Metaphor

What More Could It Be?

Low Hanging Fruit

Would you let me try your fruit? The mere thought of such fruit causes me to lose myself A fruit so sweet, it remains incomparable to any other fruit I can imagine I’ve been searching far and wide for something so sweet And I’ve found it in you But don’t give it to me sparingly […]

Would you let me try your fruit?

The mere thought of such fruit causes me to lose myself

A fruit so sweet, it remains incomparable to any other fruit I can imagine

I’ve been searching far and wide for something so sweet

And I’ve found it in you

But don’t give it to me sparingly

For after I try this fruit, there is no going back

Forget it, I’m past the point of no return

Nothing is as sweet anymore

I only have a craving for your fruit

I sit under shade of a large tree and I gnash on this divine delicacy

After I’ve eaten it, there is a feeling of emptiness dwelling in me

I thought the fruit was what I was searching for all along

But now that I’ve tasted it

I don’t know if things will ever be the same

Did I reach the pinnacle of my existence with this sweet divine fruit?

Or is there more to life?

I wander around aimlessly searching for something that can fill the absence of that fruit but all I find is

Low hanging fruit

Sly Serpent

Oh my

What a mistake I’ve made

I run and hide for cover

To shield me

From your venom

But to the illusory mind, even a stick can appear to be a serpent

Cowering with shame I await for you to strike

In anticipation I psych myself out and start exhibiting symptoms that were never there

How could your poison become mine

How could I inject myself with the venom that was never there?

The idea of administering small amounts to create an antidote sounds sound

But in this case I’m achieving the opposite effect

Distributing large amounts into my system, I become sickened

And that sickness spreads to others

Whether willingly or not

Who has the antidote?

Where I thought I was of no use before, I really am of no use to anyone, anymore.

A Double Metaphor

You gripe about things with little sustenance

Still, your sustaining of the matter keeps that very thing alive

Can’t you see you are the one inflicting the wounds?

Sore and gaping?

Still you dare not to look at it

Because then you would have to treat those wounds

How could the inflictor double as a healer

I wonder

However I am not absolved

I am not better than anyone

I sit lying in hospice

Awaiting the day I can be released

Will it rest on my shoulders to be the one

Or will the wounds mend themselves and cease to be

Pardon me

I walk through a meadow with thick lush grass but a thunderstorm strikes

And the rain is too much to bare

I look for cover but there is none

To where will I hide then?

No.

There is nowhere.

I continue as it should be

What More Could It Be?

I can see the finish line

No doubt in my mind

I will be the one

To manifest everything

Ain’t it fun?

This rat race

I laugh in your face when you say

You hold the gun

Standing and watching from the outside

Makes you a non-participant

It seems I lack the discipline

Blurred lines between dreams and wishful thinking

Your message is heaven sent but still I want to stay grounded on earth

Is it all a curse or am I blessed

Am I nothing more than dirt or am I the soil beneath my feet, the trees and ever more?

Not only am I a part of the source, but I am the core

Spare me the needless details, I want to know everything

So it can be my saving grace

And squander the problems I face