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that deal where we squeal our insides onto paper
try to paint on canvas the depth of human feeling
take clay between our fingers feel it up
into magic illusions half assed statements
work into the night's  dark feeling
make allusions
hide nothing
it's all right there before your eyes
just camouflaged by metaphors
and painted sunsets with our fingers
that that makes us human
alive
death has in our flow no
control anymore
and love is visually stable
never  ephemeral
caught in time by a heart
a soul and put on paper
forever
in return we release
an artistic ******
.
A cascading hibiscus
tantalises us
riotous hues falling bold.

Honeysuckle vine
threading through an ivy hedge
pungent with perfume.

Intriguing secret garden
beautiful flowers
in colours so vivacious.


© Pagan Paul (12/08/16)
Re-write. 7-5-7, 5-7-5, 7-5-7
We all have high hopes
As we step on the wagon
With the band playing
Grab the tail of the dragon

Not really knowing
What we are needing
Where we are going
When we are leaving

Just when we get there, hoping
Not everything's broken

Tripping the light
Of the fandango
What's the big fuss
Why can't we let go

Paying the fair
On what should be free
Instead mostly  care
You about you and me about me

This far into game I was hoping
Everything wasn't broken

Used to we'd all
Come up to the line
The same one we've learned
To step over in time

No matter which side
We all take a beating
With nowhere to hide
In our time of grieving

Either direction, coming or going
Seems these days, everything's broken
The world is an illusion, we're born alone, we die alone. Everything in the middle is all up to you. Time is timeless, and we're all thoughtless, living in our heads, hiding behind the very thing that narrates our lives, ourselves.

Everyone is so different and unique. Each of us with a different purpose and future. In order to fulfill that role in life, we need to find our worth. What makes you wake up everyday and keep going? What do you love and why? Every single person reading this is worth so much more than you think. The world is never going to get better if we don't wake up and realize that the only thing keeping us from making each day worth it is ourselves.

Words are meaningless without people, guns are harmless without our touch. We are our own worst enemies. But you can change that. You can be the reason someone gets up everyday and keeps going, you can be the one to change society and make the standards we hold a little less impossible to reach. It's all up to you as to whether or not you make that change. We're all capable of the unthinkable. We just have to try.
 Dec 2016 traces of being
TDN
I imagined myself leaving
someday.  Trading
plains for seas, exchanging
something loved for something
unknown.

And maybe it's the fear
of quietly whispering
goodbye that unsettles me.
Maybe it's the inevitable
end of familiarity,
like the sun's western descent
after a day that should not
end.
And when it does,
we all pack our bags
and say farewell.

Eventually,
I will trace new roadmaps on the
back of my hands;
I will find the familiar
creaks in the floorboards.

And when the sun sets,
someone will leave a light on
for me.
Frigid elegance skimmed the
surface of an ethereal existence
where every breath was as unique
in its expiring form from
               vapour
                           to
                             concentrated
embodiment of glacial shimmering elegance.
Her hair settled like a light flurry on her shoulders,
glistening beads woven of unique forms covered
her silhouette and I froze in her presence of beauty.
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