I drink my wine,
Its breath of swine,
the game of life at stake.
I held my breath,
the world regressed,
my soul was up for takes.
It pushed. I cried.
It laughed. I sighed.
Its power must be bled.
I walk to fly.
Oh paradox sky.
Speak. hopeful soul be fed.
I paint to cleanse,
the voices within.
For a change in lifes array.
And then I sigh,
and perhaps I cry.
It is the artist’s way.
Jennifer Lee Dethloff 2/2010
THE ARTIST:
The artist,
picks up
thier utensil
then creates
an orgasm.
from a mind
in a clarity
so simple
and open
that only
powers of nothing
enhance
all doors
to be opened
to a realm
of peace,
love,
and harmony
and,
THE UNKNOWN—
Ravenstooth
Love this- wicked brew-wine
Thanks! Merci
I need to motivate some more pieces soon 