Art {in lyricless form}

carved in the tree.
Spray painted in green.
And blue.
On ally brick.
Existence measured.
{Proved by the superficial?}
Are they real? They need proof.

Ellie was here.black.
Spray painted.
More than marks on a tree?
Ally brick?
Proof that you are real?
Do you exist?
Do you matter?
Who cares where Ellie was?
All that matters is that Ellie WAS.

The all consuming desire
Of every heart
Or only mine?

So empty
D r i f t i n g
F r o m o n e t o t h e n e x t in a random
and chaotic order untilitallblendstogetherintoameaninglessjumbleof
A I M L E S S W O R D S.

thoughts on paper.

What is accomplished?


[sand]Castles In The Air

is this where it’ll end
with wishing never to dream again?
‘cause it all falls down
and the walls can’t stand.

foundation -- shaky.
workmanship -- dull.
floor -- filled with holes.
into each of them I fall.

unending repairs
it’s forever ‘do-again’
when’s it gonna end, huh?
will I ever understand?

am I gonna learn my lesson
will there be an end to all the falls?
will I be here come forever
staring still at my blank walls?

it’s the house that I built
it's my castle in the air
but I can’t help wonderin’
is it really there?

man, it’s sure a fixer-upper
is it worth what it’ll cost?
am I gonna give up all
just to gain back what I’ve lost?

it’s the house that I built
every stone place by my hand
is it my dream-castle in the air,
or is my castle made of sand?


Delusions of grandeur...

Remember being a kid and loving to do things that you thought would make people think you were an adult? Maybe you don’t. But I do! I remember carrying the car keys. I would flash them for the world to see, swing them and jingle them in my 5 year old hands thinking “Everybody probably thinks I’m a big 16-year-old that can drive!” (16 was, of course, the very best age I ever aspired to reaching!) Ah yes. That was probably why they smiled at me like that.

I remember being 7 and walking my little brother down the block and across the street to our friends’ house. The big people in the cars would smile and wave at us. “I bet they think I’m his mom,” I would ponder, “or maybe his babysitter.”

Babysitters, by my reckoning, were about the coolest & most sophisticated people on earth. Imagine getting paid to watch kids like me and my siblings! What could be more fun!? (Lol. Ah yes, in my child-like mind I was pretty hot stuff!) Not, of course, that we NEEDED a babysitter. I mean, we were some pretty big kids! Ok, so I couldn’t actually reach the microwave and wasn’t strong enough to drag the high-chair over…obviously the babysitter was there so that we wouldn’t die from lack of popcorn.

And now…I’ve past that wonderful age of sixteen and am nearing the official “adulthood” number. Oh, it’s sad to know that I can never go back. But…I’ve got new aspirations & new delusions of grandeur. Life just keeps getting better, and the memories are worth every moment.



She Walks In Beauty

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade more, one ray less,
Had half impair'd the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!

Lord Byron (1788-1824)