e-g-fellenstein - Hello Poetry

the citrus of grapefruit stings the air layering into the smell of shaving cream and cold morning love. why can’t the sweetness of hindsight land on the tongue in rhythm with the firm loving hand brushed away while frozen by ignorance?

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Dec 13, 2013

Dec 13, 2013 at 10:58 AM UTC

e-g-fellenstein

the father

the citrus of grapefruit stings the air layering into the smell of shaving cream and cold morning love. why can’t the sweetness of hindsight land on the tongue in rhythm with the firm loving hand brushed away while frozen by ignorance?

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And if your meticulously mixed colors and carefully articulated strokes of the brush happen to disintegrate in the charring of a fire what then? Was the time spent crafting your rolling mountains of somber lunar blue or prickly fields of mouse-housing wheat or soaring, rumbling majesty of an unset sky for naught? Does one create for the eyes or the currency or the back pats? or Is passion crafted simply to create in a world of destruction?

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Dec 4, 2013

Dec 4, 2013 at 12:43 AM UTC

e-g-fellenstein

The Use?

And if your meticulously mixed colors and carefully articulated strokes of the brush happen to disintegrate in the charring of a fire what then? Was the time spent crafting your rolling mountains of somber lunar blue or prickly fields of mouse-housing wheat or soaring, rumbling majesty of an unset sky for naught? Does one create for the eyes or the currency or the back pats? or Is passion crafted simply to create in a world of destruction?

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Is it true that the poison which drinks life away can smell like cheese and honey?

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Dec 4, 2013

Dec 4, 2013 at 12:42 AM UTC

e-g-fellenstein

etude. 4

Is it true that the poison which drinks life away can smell like cheese and honey?

5

See, I’m pretty deeply rooted on this small rock, this minor island. I can’t move. Sure I can gain fleeting satisfaction from docking ships which need a repair or wish to experience the depth of isolation. But like the clouds those ships pass. And I can only wait for when the storm or tsunami will absorb and erase me with hardly more than a flinch. When that time comes I will have been nothing more than nothing (+x).

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Dec 4, 2013

Dec 4, 2013 at 12:42 AM UTC

e-g-fellenstein

etude. 3

See, I’m pretty deeply rooted on this small rock, this minor island. I can’t move. Sure I can gain fleeting satisfaction from docking ships which need a repair or wish to experience the depth of isolation. But like the clouds those ships pass. And I can only wait for when the storm or tsunami will absorb and erase me with hardly more than a flinch. When that time comes I will have been nothing more than nothing (+x).

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And here’s another religious theory: craving the sweetness of fruitless purpose, we hunch with our loads under the big above eye and scurry a little faster. Looking only up or down -at the sky or on the ground- and deriving no drive from our surroundings (the universe erupting in the beauty of our limited spectrum rainbow)

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Dec 4, 2013

Dec 4, 2013 at 12:41 AM UTC

e-g-fellenstein

etude. 2

And here’s another religious theory: craving the sweetness of fruitless purpose, we hunch with our loads under the big above eye and scurry a little faster. Looking only up or down -at the sky or on the ground- and deriving no drive from our surroundings (the universe erupting in the beauty of our limited spectrum rainbow)

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funny how even at a grinded pace we forget about the fingers of air that brush past our face as we walk onward into our far-too-long lives that end abruptly and without trace

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Dec 4, 2013

Dec 4, 2013 at 12:40 AM UTC

e-g-fellenstein

etude. 1

funny how even at a grinded pace we forget about the fingers of air that brush past our face as we walk onward into our far-too-long lives that end abruptly and without trace

6

breath in that air which, beneath it’s sandpaper package, fills your body with warm fumes (which mean something). Close your eyes and hold that image, capture and engrave those blues in the shadow into the folds of your soul (no pixels needed). stop. in the name of filling the loose rice paper skin of your existence, forget the scars as well as the telescope and savor the feeling in between the ticks of time.

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Dec 4, 2013

Dec 4, 2013 at 12:32 AM UTC

e-g-fellenstein

stop.

breath in that air which, beneath it’s sandpaper package, fills your body with warm fumes (which mean something). Close your eyes and hold that image, capture and engrave those blues in the shadow into the folds of your soul (no pixels needed). stop. in the name of filling the loose rice paper skin of your existence, forget the scars as well as the telescope and savor the feeling in between the ticks of time.

13

When pain takes you by your collar and drags you for a ride you didn’t bargain for, Remember how stunning it is that you have a collar to be grabbed and consider the fact that pain picked YOU. The feel of anything is beauty- and feeling anything and everything (drag of pain too) = proof. Now how much better does that sandwich taste after a little starvation?

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Nov 4, 2013

Nov 4, 2013 at 10:58 PM UTC

e-g-fellenstein

Rally

When pain takes you by your collar and drags you for a ride you didn’t bargain for, Remember how stunning it is that you have a collar to be grabbed and consider the fact that pain picked YOU. The feel of anything is beauty- and feeling anything and everything (drag of pain too) = proof. Now how much better does that sandwich taste after a little starvation?

14

It's hurting me bad. I want to tell ya'll, know that I love you, I'm going home. I'll be all right, don't worry. Ya'll do understand that I came here a sinner and leaving a saint. I wish ya'll well. To my wife, I love you There is no reason to cry, everybody dies. Everybody has their time, don't worry about me. I'm strong. I can feel it, taste it, not bad. I will be waiting for you. I love you so dearly. We're all good. I am ready to go. I'm ready. I'm ready. I'm ready.

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Oct 15, 2013

Oct 15, 2013 at 10:25 PM UTC

e-g-fellenstein

all the guys on the row

It's hurting me bad. I want to tell ya'll, know that I love you, I'm going home. I'll be all right, don't worry. Ya'll do understand that I came here a sinner and leaving a saint. I wish ya'll well. To my wife, I love you There is no reason to cry, everybody dies. Everybody has their time, don't worry about me. I'm strong. I can feel it, taste it, not bad. I will be waiting for you. I love you so dearly. We're all good. I am ready to go. I'm ready. I'm ready. I'm ready.

17

Once, after twenty years of fruitless scribblings, a composer finally crafted his magnum opus. Then a gas line sparked and exploded killing the man and his work. Once, a sculptor knelt on a beach to mold an intricate scale model of ancient Greece fifty feet long. But no one saw it, save the moonlit tide as it soaked it’s way through the replicated sand pillars. Once, a lone mountaineer gathered up his courage and embarked on a climb never conquered. He summited just before freezing in a snowdrift. Life is a thin rice paper. It can burn. It can tear. It can decay. It will expire. However, it can also be painted on with colors more vibrant more stunning than the shades of the soul. Once, there was a universe that held a floating rock with water and heat and air. Then a life formed and the universe observed itself… …If only for a while.

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Sep 27, 2013

Sep 27, 2013 at 2:18 PM UTC

e-g-fellenstein

Significance

Once, after twenty years of fruitless scribblings, a composer finally crafted his magnum opus. Then a gas line sparked and exploded killing the man and his work. Once, a sculptor knelt on a beach to mold an intricate scale model of ancient Greece fifty feet long. But no one saw it, save the moonlit tide as it soaked it’s way through the replicated sand pillars. Once, a lone mountaineer gathered up his courage and embarked on a climb never conquered. He summited just before freezing in a snowdrift. Life is a thin rice paper. It can burn. It can tear. It can decay. It will expire. However, it can also be painted on with colors more vibrant more stunning than the shades of the soul. Once, there was a universe that held a floating rock with water and heat and air. Then a life formed and the universe observed itself… …If only for a while.

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