#magnitude
*To you these are simply few words with little meaning, scribbled on paper.
This art is made up of blooming thoughts.
Once remarked, then glorified.
Recognition of the amazement in ourselves.
No longer an outcast
Just a vessel of beauty.
Never will you know how much these words mean to me.
You are blind to me.
I am lined paper torn up and thrown on the cold floor
You’re oblivious to the steps you take.
These words are endless thoughts with no magnitude.
My soul is in disguise, between faint blue lines, hidden but alive.
Thriving, with the pain of no gratitude.
I’m sorry you cannot see the beauty in paper.
I’m sorry you cannot see the beauty in me.*
Nov 20, 2015
Nov 20, 2015 at 5:15 PM UTC
It’s beautiful, a feeling of pure darkness and intensity.
It’s freeing, like a raven in a cage waiting to break free.
It’s dangerous, opening yourself up to such a matter of inner conscious.
Losing self control and letting yourself go.
The dead sleeps still, the graveyard whispers pain and sin.
It’s midnight, I’ve been in this beautiful place for so long.
It’s peaceful, like I am one with the dead of night.
I felt something I didn’t feel in a really long time.
I felt like I belonged, like the spirits surrounded me in welcoming peace.
At first I felt a heaviness, a blockage in my throat.
They felt threatened, thinking I was invading their space.
When they realized, I’m one of them, just another lost soul.
Lines and lines and wired times.
Fading into the abyss and getting high.
The spirits communicate with me, I can feel their energies like an instant magnetic pull.
I can feel their pain, their sadness, their hardships, their madness. I can feel it all, and I soak in energies like a sponge, I can’t help it. Intuition kicks in and I can’t even block it.
It’s intense and beautiful, the fog and misty air.
The dark light, and despair.
I FELT EVERYTHING
It was the best experience I’ve ever had in a really long time.
The graveyard in the back of the church, where true love sleeps, souls stay forbidden, sacred, ridden in deep.
A hidden passage way to the unknown and discreet.
I finally found where I belong, for I am a lost soul, buried six feet deep.
May 25, 2020
May 25, 2020 at 7:14 PM UTC
refilling the shoes
of truly great men
is a task not
within lesser men
the shoes too large
for them to comprehend
a depth and breadth
so extraordinary of rend
these shoes are super
in their magnitude
of which a menial foot
could never altitude
to think other wise
shows no aptitude
fittings of this calibre
require plenitude
trying them on
for size why do that?
a cobbler would laugh
off his Dorset hat
knowing full well
there's a gauging bat
where men of capacity
are expansive of tat
shoe filling takes
much adroitness
just ask they who
possess its smartness
tis a gravitas of such
encompassing vastness
as quoted by the
sagacious George Furness
Feb 7, 2018
Feb 7, 2018 at 3:46 AM UTC