Sometimes it's about perspective
What we have vs what we don't
I may not have health, physical or mental
I have never been, or known, the idle rich
But I am smart and employed
I have love that encouraged my voice
I comfort myself with my creativity
Sometimes I have to count my dollars
Be careful in my choosing of supplies
But I have more than one canvas
I have more than one paint
I have more than one brush
My art is my priveledge.
Tuesday, July 24, 2018
My art is my priveledge
Monday, July 23, 2018
In my youth without thought
In appropriate words I cannot think
As words are such but a weak expression
of how this quilted silence lives inside of me
For deeply is she hidden
folded under such darkened velvet
in the quiet recesses of my soul
That I may no longer know her face
And in those delicate hands of youth
She holds a box of memories
that I may never see
For in my bitter misery
I made her hide away from me.
As words are such but a weak expression
of how this quilted silence lives inside of me
For deeply is she hidden
folded under such darkened velvet
in the quiet recesses of my soul
That I may no longer know her face
And in those delicate hands of youth
She holds a box of memories
that I may never see
For in my bitter misery
I made her hide away from me.
Friday, July 6, 2018
Abject object
Appearance is our first impression
Proceeding words spoken
I aim for clean and cute
I hope for a second consideration
I don't always object to being an object
But the object I don't want to be
Is an object to be owned
An object chassing affection
In my old age, I'm tired of sexy
I'm frustrated by the expectation
I wish my body wasn't a barter
I rebel againt "keeping it up"
I want to be a free range object
Living between "looking nice"
And "keeping a mate"
My style is for my pleasure
Attractive is relative
And personality effects perception
I hope to be disliked for what I say
Not for how I look.
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