The obsession you have with doing, with perfection, with criticism is chewing you up. Perhaps you were called Mary Poppins in school and are always correcting everything. Nothing ever seems to be good enough. When was the last time that you let the tears fall like sweet alchemy from your gentle eyes? When was the …
Tag Archives: Art
Teardrop
Produced by Grantley “Daddy G” Marshall, Andrew “Mushroom” Vowles, Robert “3D” del Naja & Neil Davidge Album:Mezzanine [Verse 1]Love, love is a verbLove is a doing wordFeathers on my breathGentle impulsionShakes me, makes me lighterFeathers on my breath [Chorus]Teardrop on the fireFeathers on my breath [Verse 2]Night, night, after dayBlack flowers blossomingFeathers on my breathBlack …
“I stand in the ring, in the dead city and tie on the red shoes. They are not mine. They are my mother’s and her mother’s before.” ~ Anne Sexton, The Red Shoes
Self-portrait: Santiago, Chile 2018
Long and Fine branches
Catalyst for change, or mirror of our own apathetic mind The cost of living true has brought me long and fine branches Each one spinning their chapters of Life into mundanity Questions, some love to grab at our members and drive us out Into the nameless streets, zooming solicitors, each with another brand of perversion …
Le Fool
Agoraphobia, they said and it was as if philosophy was dead, replaced by the father of liar’s reeducation Nearly every one is a poly want a cracker and on all cides, the walls shrink in meaning Doors locked to keep away tears, all who are superfluid and psychic And little cults of Marxism all on …
Black Lucy
As I unravell Her, eyes see Under the stand, she isn’t Matters little to the “whirl.”
Figure you IN
Take up your cross and take off the persona, snickers Of pure intent in air flow in between the offering of words Got to burn every mental prison in these guttural sounds Every tear piping hot, a sacrament ready for the drinking To see inside of water, to see how much love remembers Halt the …
Arriving at Honesty
And the withholding No, don’t dare to deny it, any nudity, any sense of revelation Undressed in crowds, no, so I flee and say — Candor that burns, a dream ignited, some awkward output, but as honest as life and yet the spaces, the gnossiene, I still live in Crystalline, sacred tears break the reserve …
Who are you?
Gnossiene
The Immaculate Perception 