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AW Dec 2011
He sighs
My life
Is scattered on the floor
My heart
Makes art
As a mosaic forms
The glue
Seeps through
It paints the picture red
Time’s waste
The taste
Is bitter with regret
AW May 2013
Remember, being young, you used to love those posters
We’d look at them for hours, got addicted to the game
Of trying to be the one, who found the most new details
We searched for all the features that none had seen before
And every next disclosure would shed a whole new light
On the storyline we thought had nothing new in store

Where along the way did you lose your sense of wonder?
What was it that blinded the eye for detail that you had?
Was it time that rusted your fixation on what’s known yet
Was it life that happened and robbed your curious mind?
‘Cause though still friends forever, the magic slowly faded
The picture got familiar as if holding no more surprise

Now just take a moment and imagine that we’re standing
Looking at that poster that you still know by heart
The one that tells the story of two best friends forever
And spells their lives out since the time that they were young
All the ties that bind them, the obstacles along the road
All the precious moments that gave colour to their lives

Imagine that this picture, etched inside you memory
Holds one little detail that you've never seen before
Would its revelation bring back your imagination
And hold the hidden power to change the story line?
Would the boy hidden inside accept the great adventure
That a few small brush strokes invite him to pursue?

This time, let me tell you the thing that you’ve been missing
The detail that’s been overlooked in all the years gone by
The painter of this story line that sketched our lives together
Signed this valued work of art with the truest signature
If you’d open up your eyes and see the artist’s message
You’d read there in my handwriting “please let me be yours”
A tortured artist
Going the hardest
On the verge of a rest that will last an eternity
But not until the masterpiece is finished
Diminished sanity because of the paintbrushes vanity
But it’s ok because the art will transcend mortality and define reality
So I continue to stare into the destructive void for the arts benefit and beauty
©william.a.johnson 2014
Lani Foronda Aug 2014
if a picture is worth a thousand words,
then mines must be nine hundred ninety-nine.
November 7, 2012
Elise Reid Aug 2014
Picture perfect.
Handsome face.
Flawless smile.
All sin erased.

My addiction.
Rose colored view.
Thoughts repeated,
I just want you!

But how the mighty have fallen!
But where in my heart are you at now?
But when does your name pass my lips?
But what made affections turn foul?

And why did the roses all wilt?
And where did the fairy-tale end?
And what made me turn from your face?
And how has the mighty fallen?
Amitav Radiance Aug 2014
Sometimes, life's a film without the narrative
chris m Aug 2014
how come my projection is ignored
your eyes, like high beams, flash over my existence
scattering my photons/my waves                                                            ­         
in exchange for your bright/white                                                            ­                                             clean/canvas                                                           ­                                             
you wander through these halls flitting from picture to picture to picture
fitting yourself to each
scene and visual style
discarding the ones irrelevant/inconsequential                                                  ­
like me, tossed aside
connections- but how deep
what soil does your friendship take root in?
in experiences/morals/ideologies/pasts                                                            ­  
or is it simply a necessity
a validation
that you exist
but why don’t i fit into your
equation/picture/life?                                                            ­                              
You want to laugh and I want to hear you
i don’t get it
i wish i did
you look at me and you look at you and you look at the boy standing there
and somehow you laugh at his smile
you talk with his persona
you walk with his saunter
and here i am passing the other way, looking/writing down                          
your validation
in these words i will capture your
reality/aura/matter/existence                                                        ­                      
so that you won’t be forgotten
like his smile/persona/saunter                                                          ­                  

and my projection/                                                                 ­                           
photons/                                                                 ­                           
waves/                                                                 ­                           
equation/                                                                 ­                           
picture/                                                                 ­                           
life?/                                                                 ­                           
reailty/                                                                 ­                           
aura/                                                                 ­                           
matter/                                                                 ­                           
existence/                                                                 ­                           

is anybody out there writing
for me?
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