Giger | Angelica Fuse
Genius
with pen and ink
draws up visions
of nightmare
armored creatures.
Facing a cave wall, some eggheads
Considered the etchings and characters
Left behind by ancient architects
They must have had something in common
Head, heart, lust, recipes?
But their faces are long buried
Beneath tides of earth and moss
Someday, they will be in a museum
Someday perhaps, they shall be truly rediscovered…
You can’t please them all
got to put your
words out there
Let them crackle
like bacon on the sidewalk
Sell them like portraits
at the beach
Art is more than high bids.
It’s not likely
I will know the
rewards of a literary
life now
But I can still
etch my little words
carve my name
here and there.
One end of the dusty shelf
held upright by a solid sculpture
of readings, the other a vase
of dotted flowers, clearly fake,
eternal plumage.
My beginning, traced through
the words of comic books, then
Michael Crichton, then Kurt Vonnegut,
whatever blared at me on the shelf
or was handed to me.
Colorful panels to creative words.
Lately, a pile of textbooks, some
words revisited, articles about study,
there are always new terms to find.
New wisdom to open up and air out.
More at http://jddehartwriting.blogspot.com.
Love is something that can’t be controlled. More than a feeling, it’s a part of me. Brought out by the beauty than only i see. Yet is caged like a bird. Should i set it free? To fly through the air, to explore the skies. To perch on my shoulder and wipe the tears from my eyes.
Love is more than a feeling, it is beauty. It is art. Something that will never change when we are apart. Like wine being poured into a glass, a glass so crystal clear, is like the beauty you’ll see being poured over me whenever you are near. Putting me in a state of mind, causing my spirits to rise. For as long as i know you feel the same no more tears shall fall from my eyes.