A judgemental, prideful and arrogant writer confines within his mind.

Writer
[noun]

someone who cultivates raw dirt to produce a single flower, blooming from the depths of their soul;
but grows addicted to its presence --beauty amongst darkness.
and in attempt to conceal the muddy reality, develops a garden with lavish, beautiful flowers--
of assorted variety, with unique traits of every flower and indistinguishable as stars in the night sky;
but harsh winter tramples with intricate footsteps, the petals tragically withered and torn as the writer's heart
their watery eyes acknowledging the dirt once more.

For us to understand humans, we must first detach ourselves.

light-hearted denials
that stab every situation
I perceived, tasted, heard,
with my alert senses
that lead to who I am today--
and your dismissals of
such a degree that
invalidate my feelings.

The ivories' sleeping is like a lonely black piano.

Beautiful, small girl quietly fight a dusty, misty bench.
Hello, old friend.  Did you miss me?

Ah, life!

Running loudly like an old hammer.
Banging ******* the ivories.

God, action!

Piano keys are only black and white,
But sound like blue birds singing ,
On a bright morning's day.

Oh! No!

Where are the noisy keys?
Never love a broken string.

Exhaustion, noise, and love.
Never fight a hammer.

Lord, anger!
Piano, why are you angry with me?


Copyright © Ronald J Chapman All Rights Reserved.