Some people listen to hear,
and some listen to respond.

Some people talk to be heard,
and some talk because they can’t stand the silence.

she casts her pencil like a wand as magic soaks into the page her flannel cascades around her work, shielding it from curious eyes she tilts her head to listen to the lecture, but her heart is elsewhere running through castles and stumbling through candle lit streets colors tangle to mirror the expanse of her dreams she shares her soul with every meticulous stroke each face blessed by her style but never the same when she designs she never aims for perfection for she knows perfect is just a fancy way of saying flawed she erases and redraws as if her art could never satisfy her desires it can always be better but it is never good enough if only she knew I meant it when I told her I loved her drawing her art speaks to me like Mona Lisa never could

On the white screen dance the stringed dots
Mind spilled codes of hieroglyphic thoughts
Slowly they emerge handholding lines
Not always yielding intended designs.
Something was brewing inside the head
Coaxing to weave and take it ahead
The drunken horses so wildly gallop
There is no leash to make them stop.
Nerves are taut and they won't relax
Till all is vented they reach the ******
It was thus fated the moment it was sown
What's to be grown could never be known.
As the fever wanes arrives the new child
It may be adored or it may be defiled
The canvas is washed clean as in the rain
Something is brewing to be vented again.

my love, you wear silence like a coat
and i am left drifting like a far-out wave.
the wind tangles leaf and sky.
winter is barely noticed, the moon
is a ghost of forgotten flowers where
the night sings to the starry waters,
sings of our love. everything is sailing
like a ship in a bottle, a kaleidoscope  
of brightness, gothic hill and wildflower
ruin, flowing like a silvery stream.
do you dream of me? do you burn when
the night wraps you in her cloak and the moon
unwinds the waters of the seas?
do you dream of me?

‐---‐    ----
<●> <●>

When looking in a lover's eyes,
All are foolish, none are wise
None can hide, there's no disguise
No room for sophestry or lies

The iris is a limpid pool
Making Eros loose his cool
Cupid launches ships of fools
The pupil grows dark and full

We fit, baby, hand in glove
There's no hiding
The Eyes of love

The apple of the eye is dark
Cupid's arrow meets it's mark
Morning light can be so stark
When nightingale becomes the lark

We know that sanity is over
When we stop running for cover
Let the rain fall! Four leaf clover
All the world loves a lover!

Our amour is from above
There's no hiding
The eyes of love



SøułSurvivør
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc.

Catherine Jarvis
(C) 9/2017

Every word we say leaves an imprint on the soul.
The things we say can make a person feel whole.
It can make them despair and make them feel upset.
It can make them feel emotions they haven't felt yet.
Words can make someone fall in love, it can make their heart beat faster.
It can take their breath away, it can cause a disaster.
It can leave you wondering what they meant.
Or maybe leave you happily content.
It can help or hurt someone please be careful what you say.
Check your mind before you speak, check it all the way.

The morning is so beautiful it’s like a sigh of relief.
The morning air is like medicine that is my belief
I say this because everything is calm and the sky is so pretty.
With reds and pinks and the orange sun, to miss it, would be a pity.
I love to hear the birds sing their beautiful songs like nature's melody.
To hear it, it’s like a soul restoring remedy.
So enjoy the beautiful morning while it lasts.
Because before you know it the morning will pass.