Art is my escape
The place I dare to dream,
Depositing frustrations
That make me want to scream;
Tying up the loose ends
Of mental threads about to snap
Seeking peaceful solitude
From a world that's full of crap.
Sometimes, pen and paper
Are the only things I trust,
When all around me shatters,
And turns to empty dust.
Here among the soft lights
Of lamp, and desk, and ink
I give into emotion
So I do not have to think.

i'm trying to paint away the sadness
one color at a time.

i paint
bright kaleidoscopic skies
strong, swaying trees
a brave blue wave
a million pretty pastel floral arrangements

but none of them can cover up
the blues of my sadness.
the reds of my anger.
the black to blue to purple to yellow-greens of my bruises.

i still try to paint away the sadness
one color at a time
until the scenes i paint on pages
become the ones in my real life.

if you measure with a tool or a spoon,
the recipe or what you build may be a boon
of consistency, insistently...a hope

if you measure twice a reward thrice
may appear, increase in joy's result
and fear to disappear... a relief

health and mind will be renewed,
if only for the moment as, the darkness
takes a cloudy hold once more...a measure