Medium Yellow Dark

running paint
melting colors
feel like mine
grasp their time
to concentrate the point
of my intention
Sunflowers burst forth
Seedy and ripe
on my page
heavy with paint
I run too from you
Hide in the stock-still
moment
I dip my brush in
amber fire
my heart beats at the end
of my No 5 brush

Change of Plans

the paint confounds me
dripping lightly
into the white
no!
not as I had planned
just as my life
veers into
unknown territory
I have to make it beautiful
hours go by
in an instant
I work on it

I tried to delete this but decided I wasn't smart enough so anyway I'm using this blog just to write down poety from now on just for myself.

whats the point

who cares
no one comes
Im the one
who reads
I publish poems
that I peruse
no one else will see
why come
to my shitty blog
nothing here to see
so go away
before you come
you'll be happier, you see

Poem

The Missing Piece

gnarled hemisphere
tangled plaque
somewhere in there
is what I lack
moronic lobe
twisted path
why does my brain suffer
what others lack
gimme a co cktail
gimme some smack
gimme some chemical
to make up for this lack
so I can go smiling
robotic and slack
and pick up the pieces
the pieces I lack

Hellers Paradox

"The chaplain had sinned, and it was good...The chaplain had mastered, in a moment of divine intuition, the handy technique of protective rationalization, and he was exhilarated by his discovery. It was miraculous. It was almost no trick at all, he saw, to turn vice into virtue and slander into truth, impotence into abstinence, arrogance into humility, plunder into philanthropy, thievery into honor, blasphemy into wisdom, brutality into patriotism, and sadism into justice. Anybody could do it; it required no brains at all. It merely required no character."

Is this what we are reduced to then? Our government, our generation, our world? Me, me me?

Why have character? Heller, makes the point, why? Who benefits, why we do, if we have a soul!

Does that make me crazy?

Im a little psychotic today, er, this week. I see the black birds fly overhead and as they go by they change into colorful birds of paradise. The sparrows chirp my name and look into my very soul. If only they spoke English I feel they could tell me so many things. I have spent a lot of time sketching an old cow's skull I have had for years, I collect skulls. I have a mouse, a fox, a cow, deer, and an unknown, coyote, maybe. I feel very detatched, high, and floaty, not unpleasant but with an undertone of anxiety (pop goes the Ativan) I spend a lot of time alone. I wonder a lot about everything, what matters, why bother, etc... But I'm OK. The medicine is increased and is now flowing freely, damping off my mind. Backing it off into reality again. Sometimes it comes back for a second, the tunnel vision, the bright colors, the high feeling of ultimate knowledge. BUt that's just me. And I "gotta be me" like the song says. Thanks for putting up with that guys.
Love and Peace
Dulcinea