My eyes,
can only see art, and the world, is what I stare at. The color of love, blends with the soul of the time. The sketch, of what it means, to live. Time, is forever. Time, to you, means everything. Your eyes, see time. How much time you have until it is due, how much time you have until it is up to you, how much time you have, until what you own is what you lose. That, must be a miserable way to live. Because time, is not in your control. The sun may not rise tomorrow morning, and you can't do a damn thing about it. It is a boundary of your imagination, an obstacle of your prosperity. My eyes, only see art. Time does not exist, I do not worry. Because art is what I want, what I need. And if that is not enough, then maybe time will tell me what is.
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A painting forgotten,
I never thought art could do anything but evolve, But this one has been left for dead, rotten. The artist, must have been a monster. To make time, something to conquer. The painting made me ponder, Sense of the world, may not be meant to conjure. I went to the river, every day to study the painting, become more and more vibrant. There was always music, but for some reason it was always silent. In all of my poetry, I had only found one way to describe it. The painting was a mind, mindless. It was art, it was a design, and like home, it was a structure. I gazed in to the illuminating illustration, as if I was a baby again, staring in to my mother. I had an idea, but apparently the river had others. Because one day I went to the river, and the night had no color. I watch the enchanted magic, float away in to the distance. It was no longer an art, it was simply a vision. I do not swim after it, But that does not mean, it was the type of beauty that could be resisted. I will miss my friend, forever. I guess that is what I meant, When I said we will ride this river together. My tears shed, my soul bled. And as they fell to the white floor and splattered, I saw red. Art is not in everything. Art, is everything. You are a snake.
Traveling through the vibrations of my universe, you have wrapped your wrath around the throat of my freedom. You strangle the peace that seeks to breathe throughout me, as you spinelessly slither through my meadows. You are a predator, to the flowers and animals tremendously galloping, dancing in the beaming lights of the colors of the ground, the brightness of the sun. The tortoise may beat the rabbit, but the snake will always beat the soul. You sneak in to the shadows of fallen leaves, delving yourself deep in to the ground where I cannot perceive. I expand, I venture, I travel. But the snake, is never buried, the snake, is simply hiding. The snake, always offers me an apple. It is reality for me to give in, but I dream of escape. It is reality for me to feed myself, if I am hungry, but in my dreams, apples are not poisinous. It is reality for me to chase the light at the end of this tunnel, but in my dreams, the tunnel is warmer than the world, And I am as cold as I am hungry, Why can't I stay? The poison of it's fangs drips from the apple, as the snake begins to seduce me. Weaving in and out of my legs, climbing my shoulders, beginning to whisper. And in reality, I am hungry, I will take a bite. But in reality, evil can touch me. So today, I am dreaming. Tomorrow, will be the dream come true. The snake, may choke me. The snake, may consume me. But the snake, can never swallow me. Because the snake, cannot transcend reality, it does not have enough power to chase me, in to my lonely meadows, in to my eruptive dimensions, in to my vast space, My escape, is escape. I am in my dreams. I am my dreams. I am dreaming, forever. Your appearance wipes my fear's existence.
You are a raging meteor, to the species of my experiences. An opiate, to my deepest of wounds. Your name graces my mind, and gently lays upon my ears, as the thoughts of my brightest smiles, the punches I've felt, the triumphs of my mind, the anguish I have faced, erupt beneath me. The power of art, from poetry to illustration, to the explosions of nature, from the color in the world to the volcanoes beneath it, rushes and empowers the blood in my veins. forever evolving, but symbolizing freedom in it's purity, and my utmost desires of, simplicity. Through your constant laugh, your crystal coated eyes, the softness of your skin, to the peace of your voice, the peak of my peace, is discovered. You, are the pure epitome, of the gorgeousness in the world, I have always wishes to hold hands with. My passion, in it's most furious form. My pain, being watered in it's deepest roots. You are the definition of my word, as I have yet to discover my definition to yours. The destination of my hopeful maze, because I have not yet found a path to follow. The lyrics, to the raging symphony of my wonders. The God to my religion, as the only thing I have felt worth worshipping, is my vision when you are within it. You are, the unleashing of my freedom, because nothing can harness something, so powerful. so, beautiful. Not these words, nor my endless efforts. You may ask, "Why?" And I may tell you, but the truth is, I do not know. What I feel, is the vast unknown of the sky, and that is why, with as much purpose as the sun serves the solar system, and with as much impact as the wars that have struck humanity, I truly, and deeply, and always will, Love You. |
AuthorDaniel Buccafusca Archives
May 2021
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