My world is minimalistic
but my mind is significantly infinite

Verdant land with one blue river curved in two spots
dual array
to unravel my worst convolution

To ease the long lasting existential blurriness in which I’ve lived
and for many important reasons.

but returning to the starting point I’ve found art in doing nothing
Only ordinary things
like loving and being loved.
Striding across pages of my future autobiographical books
about nothingness.
Because it’s the softest and most adequate form of art to have been made

half past eight

summer evening

Perfect backyard wooden table in some place away from here
abstruse nostalgia written in grapheme
and circular shape of my ripened mind..

Could these reflections symbolize the freedom I’ve been chasing
and in the end found in

Long trips to balmy beaches in the front seat of my car

all these things disarrayed on paper plains
one meandering river
vast misplaced ocean
Holy Mind

never been called a charismatic storyteller under a disco ball
When the wind was rapid
or when the seas were calm
it was nothing extraordinary peaceful weather ivies growing down
white carpet laid in the midpoint of my floor.
My poetry grew sky high starting new close to the ground
Therefore my Wiжa was an ideal outro to the sleepless nights
and knowing everyone has changed.

If this is art
then I live for it.

After all i limn the same thing

Something between
present
and absent

Something surreal accessing the greatest kingdom
assessing the ways
to battle obstructions.

and most importantly to locate those Arcadian rampant lands
where every word spoken turns gold

LB

or the visible border between the dream and dreamful reality

Alluding to my nearest past I’d like to make all my words clear
in grapheme
summertime
Dual mind

Many upper decisions to abide by afterwards when the sun elevates
Perfect thoughts picnic table in the wild
Soft
like
a lullaby
..