3 Poems Of An Artist's Crazy Moods: "The Vacancy Left Behind; Inside Of Me; On Display"

"The Vacancy Left Behind "

It's hard to leave such vacancy behind. There are qualities I may have missed. Isn't everything more complex than what was first observed? How simple to decide this spot was useless. This pebble, soft spoken stone. This avenue that spoke of being no where. I missed that it was adjacent to an explosion of well meaning gestures. I missed the sight of a hollow bamboo that stood silent before the ever moving currents of the seaside. I missed the warm, breathing wind that brought tiny grains of sand and touched my skin on lonely days. I missed the memories of reflective thoughts. I should have measured them; the treasures that unfolded while sitting still. I missed I missed the vacancy left behind.

"Inside Of Me"

I feel lonely for the things I ran away from. Everything feels so loud now. The voices I did not cherish, then are put in boxes screaming to get out.

This piece inside of me perhaps in you. This mystery, uncharted routes that lead to hidden closets, spaces,voices. lyrical musings hums and secrets. Alone in deed and conflict. I failed to find myself.

There are answers-- I know it. There are ribbons and sequins sticks and leaves green under my feet.

I can make a little boat here. Blades of grass will be my sail. There is a ribbon in my pocket and a note I carried well.

There are words that could not be spoken neglected smiles kindness' that should have been given easily replacing my tight and uncomely mouth.

There are moments in the note that help me pace myself. I can neglect them here or I can feel them now.

"On Display"

Little pieces in the way, creating clutter. Little pieces of my soul (on fire) set out on display. Magnified a thousand times to me - I guess you see? Little pieces on tables and walls, collecting dust. I scrubbed them all, but time won't come out of the crevices. Collected emotions that I felt yesterday. Collected in the crevices, days of inspiration, hours of lost worlds. A focus no one knows of, a temporary lapse of reality. I am reminded of someone I don't always know. It is me.