tales from the murky splurge

Saturday, March 4, 2017

This silence is not silence, not true silence. Every noise is amplified This Awareness of noise is painful and I long for My musical mind to camouflage my thoughts and sounds To Drown them till muted where not a sound can harm you I feel frustrated as we all walk in avoidance, a noise that creaks... Sign in to see full entry.

Wednesday, March 1, 2017

imagination.....imagination has necessity for without it you would die and never be. Without it you would not be free. Sign in to see full entry.

I have a box and in that box is my dream It is warm inside it captures my spirit and wraps me in a blanket of security. I live with focus, ambition, a journey, a plight of absolutely no distraction. I am going with my dream as she calls to me, in her voice of clarity. You deserve this, You deserve... Sign in to see full entry.

Friday, February 24, 2017

Saw this written on a post on face book and it worried me. tolerating another culture will only dilute your own. thoughts on this please. Sign in to see full entry.

Thursday, February 23, 2017

Necessity calls.

Necessity is the mother of artistic invention. Without pencil paper paint and plight, what is necessary to create, a crying child with hallowed frown upon a mothers holy gown, she lacks a canvas to present, a wall of worthy whitewashed space, meant for gazers wondering where it went. Not created... Sign in to see full entry.

Wednesday, February 22, 2017

The Portrait Artist. The End.

Women, I have painted you before. When was that. When I slept and the fiestas took away my spirit to the time of a past life, when we danced in the square, you in a red dress, my hand firmly at your waist whilst you whispered something strange into my chest, your head buried under your falling wavy... Sign in to see full entry.

Tuesday, February 21, 2017

The portrait artist 5

So You look and lean forward and you see something else, what do you suppose you see? You with an all knowing smile, oh god I see it now, and I should hide behind my ego, sickly and withered, ashamed. the feeling and baring soul is not yours but mine. Sign in to see full entry.

Monday, February 20, 2017

The Portrait Artist 4

I see into the depths of your unconsciousness, my paintbrush limits no boundaries nor no final strokes, it cares for nothing with rules. Relentlessly it paints tones to your shadows and highlights the things you want me to know and desire to reveal. I can paint to the end of your story, the end of... Sign in to see full entry.

The Pirtrait Artist 3.

I look for you as I know you will walk past me and then pause a while wondering if I can produce a likeness. You know that I can so Do not mock my solitude, I am perfectly aware of your tedious thoughts of superiority. Come perch yourself and squint not into the sun, look not at the light It... Sign in to see full entry.

Sunday, February 19, 2017

The portrait artist, contd. 2

i can wait patiently here holding on to the end of my pencil. I care little for time, aware that those who pass have very little of it, less than me. I sit with my blank canvas which waits for you like a bird of prey. I search the crowd of teasing tourists who traipse up the stone steps, their eyes... Sign in to see full entry.

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