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The angry heart does know no peace
The fires burn and nothing can ease
the feeling for violence great or mild
for Anger strikes the man, woman and child;
When we give way to our temper
Our reason this beast will hamper
and make us throw caution to the wind
for Anger is truly a hideous fiend;
So we have to tame and tell
this fiendish creature to go to hell,
We must train our thoughts to rise above
Animal Feelings to Gracious Love.
You Are the Texture

…………………………

~ for all of you,
you, you poet~



Impasto

is a technique used in painting,
where paint is laid on an area of
the surface thickly, usually thick
enough that the brush or  painting-
knife strokes are visible.

Paint can also be mixed right on
to the canvas. When dry, impasto
provides texture; the paint appears
as if, to be coming out of the canvas.


<1:47pm>

Cut & Paste

is a technique used in poetry writing,
we refer back to our visions, heard words,
the eyeful, the earful, scents, the reads read,
all in the mind’s palette blended, thickly, but
the merging fused, every word~in~coloration,
it is unique, reincarnation, copying impossible.

The imagery, cut and pasted from thy heart and
soul, upon canvas, your poems~pieces each appear
as you-are-texture, you becoming out of, you, the canvas.

<2:04pm>


Postscript*
………………

it is not lost on me that the
scars, our words,herein,
we note too frequently, almost casually,
are, can be, the selfsame
words/painting-knife
employed
for our first and foremost
canvas we utilize,
is ourselves…
our bodies, ourselves
Fri Jun 23
2023
Pink jelly beans
Kinda don't like your taste
Not sure what flavor
You're supposed to be
Maybe generic Barbie?
Please
Don't take this personal
Still very cute
Someone loves you
But
Apparently
I don't enjoy the taste of
Mystery
Hahaha
If a picture is worth
A thousand words
What's it worth
In dreams ?
Is there such a thing
As a cheap dream?
No
Only cheap words
There is always Orpheus, where there is a song,
There are always veins, where there is love,
And they are always bursting with so much grief,
Pero il cielo è sempre piu blu quando sono con te.

Dio is an enveloping death, nature consumes and embraces,
Inertia, an ally among us there, the smile of an ending here,
But all endings, always ora, orbiting our feigned vita,
Ma, il vero sole esce per giocare, solo alla fine.
Just practising
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