Look at the girl with flowers in her hair
And birds in her chest She screams She says she knows why the caged bird sings For she is that caged bird That sings of dreams she’s never dreamt and places only her subconscious goes
one grabs many things,
wanting to be something; on the path to naught!
How marveling it is—beyond the bustling town hub,
deep in the forests, reserved on the bravest hills The cadence of the bird's alluring symphony echoes from stone, overflowed with daffodils I venture through time effortlessly, walking The gentle breeze erases my sorrows and fears Sometimes the stone pyramids are haunting, Yet magnificent to see where humans once were As I gaze opposing monoliths from a king's throne, I wonder of his essence and his diligent rule, I wonder of the people he led who’d home, in this place seemingly claimed by nature Luckily the residue still thrives: red on cobble; The waters and the plants breathe in serenity; The beds, once covered in western blankets, now rubble; They all whisper stories and poems into my ear
the light of the Creator is tattooed into my soul; as it looks at its reflection, through the window I call my eye.
at some ***** second
not quite between twelve and twelve blue planet dust particles dream suspend midair while sunbeams dance across minute hands in your eyes **** carpet melts into lush dark grass and azure electric runs across petals of daisies dipped in glass air swims carelessly about in a tropical heat and shimmers curiously like glitter in rain or paint splattered koi beneath oil spills you stand at the precipice to purple infinity and curiously ask the darkness "what time it might be" soft words of loved ones echo faintly in distance overhead copper willows generously sprout industrial light-bulbs
Maya Deren Salvador Dali Steampunk Coexist Environmentalism
Music was my refuge. I could crawl into the space between the notes and curl my back to loneliness.
Let us remember That of all the illusions Death is the deepest
This is almost a repost of an earlier shorter version which simply read "Of All the illusions, death is the deepest" . Today, to acknowledge Easter ( though I don't assosicate with or distinguish between religions) , this is what I have to say :)
I come from a place
Where reality's a dream We sleepwalk awake Silent are the screams Uncertainty is certain Lies are absolute Destruction just creates The vital and minute Consciously unaware Of our intended mistakes Reminded to forget That giving only takes I come from a place Where eyes never see Through the mists of illusion Surrounding you and me