Tag Archives: creativity
Clipped Wings
All greatness we achieve is exploited in the end,
the language we speak used to condemn,
the letters we write now contracts that bind us to them,
and the paintings we scrawl, presentations of our downfall.
If this absurdity had given us large enough wings,
neither you nor I would be allowed to fly freely with those things,
we all know what such power and elegance brings,
a flood of dead president callers, all holding collars.
We would fly, sure, but only if it suited our benefactors,
they’d pay us to stay grounded, keep the lights on, run the tractors,
overwhelm us with gifts of earth born distractors,
ensuring room enough in the sky for those worthy of flight.
Better to sing for yourself and leave them with silence,
write on the walls of your heart, let their pages feel your absence,
paint pictures to paper your home and let them live in blindness,
what greatness is in you, does not need their value.
Maybe we can’t fly,
but we can bound through life as best we can.
The Free Market Dilemma
Not every day affords the luxury to write,
yet it persists, ever eager.
Hours consumed by obligations,
endless tasks and responsibilities;
yet it is we who determine value,
who make the exchange.
Obstacles
Recently,
I’ve fallen out of favor with my journal.
Reward offered:
contemplations of a lost mind,
a night as good as day
that burns like candles.
Ode to the Pen
To you who are so confident in the sharp angles
who will not bend by force
but will shape the mind,
the scales by which our history is judged
the catalyst for all intellect divined,
I ask, what shape would be made of us otherwise?
Through you we’ve explored our history
Through you we’ve reached
Out
into the future
and found a place there
Whether
Quiet
Or loud.
Through you we have a voice that
transcends
our isolation.
Inspiration
Immeasurable
though wanting so badly to be defined
Does definition ever really help a thing
or is it the act of being refined
suddenly less than what it had been all this time?
This page was once porcelain potential
poised for possibilities
now it is scarred
permanently not a million other things
Defined
measured
caged
How many worlds
we turn to ash
to fill a blank page.
Canvas
Where was this page then
when all I had was lost
and I was undefined
in need of exactly this kind of friend?
Where were you at that time?
Why be here now when I need you least?
Will you still be here
when I need you again?
I can feel your fragility
I can feel you screaming
Bring two fragile things together and risk breaking
The sound is anxious starburst
beautiful
Yet so often you long for emptiness
Void is truth I guess
How genuine of you to keep me at bay.
The Art of Creation
To find that which is hidden
seek the sound in silence
grasp the formless and wrestle it down
take those loose ends and discover them bound
There fettered
in like company
set it free
In word
in paint
in song
The world is a canvas
sterile and lifeless
until we are bold enough to bleed.
Grow Gray With Me 