Ode To Jackson Pollack


Words spoken, misunderstood, hopeless treasures in the mind somehow unkind. Some of us are pretty straight, never to falter or bend. Pistons in motion with the power releasing. Heat created a thrill that’s worth the ride so stop dreaming. With the throttle, full out, and time to spare. You are all show, and no go when you offer your surface – your visible. Unexpressed timeless words part of the rhyme. Caught by the breeze, lost, never found. The spoken word.

The inside is never, no never to be seen. The sands of time draining away. And now in my fretful years and off to Coventry I’m sent. One sunset at a time. Leaves turning, falling. Watch there are so many reasons yet none to explain. The questions are deep within the depths of my soul. What season will they ever change? For here is the Orwellian spiritual world. And in this very space other stand slightly saddened. The passions within my breast are vibrating and screaming. Are they apart of or are they the whole? Dizzy from the spiral past, from which the arc angel fell. Gliding on the air in the moment.

Who you are is more so than what you are. Anything man has written about our consciousness; our purpose in this realm exists but he’s probably wrong most of the time. But if you can think and reason a little you’ll know that thinking it lots of fun. The best I had in a while. Seems the suns going down in style. Colors of every shade. Flowing clouds blanketing the sky. Drifting through wind storms leave your fears behind, don’t overreach yourself.

Now I may not know all possibilities. My navigation, my compassing, my mapping full of hope and desire, but wrong. My faith hoping, sinking. Marking this day. I couldn’t forget no matter how I tried, Pandora. Music to my ears, listening to the Stone, Nirvana, and songs like Tears Without Fears. When I put the sound up my frustrations disappear and I find myself dreaming. Does it matter. Creativity trumps creations. Curiosity trumps all.

The end…




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