My work is a reflection of self
It sets no limitations or inhibitions on the mind.
I paint what I wish people to view.
My work is the knowledge of a simple expression
- “beauty is not just skin deep”.
I too can bring beauty to light even as I stand before you in the flesh.
I let my fingertips, my brushes and paint do the work.
I have painted skies ruby red and have changed the color of perception.
I paint to ease reality; I paint to nourish my soul.
I paint to share my reality because my cure comes in doses of colored hues.
These colored hues that glow in the dark,
The colors which life is made of.
I paint in distress to validate my humanity.
My work is reflection of self.
It pulls from my experiences.
My work is yours to think about, and mine to create.
I paint with joy.
I paint with sorrow.
I paint with love and often paint with hate.
But in the end, it all falls right into the drops of colored hues.
Leaving much to the imagination and little to destiny.
My work is but a reflection of self.
it sets no limitations or inhibitions on the mind.
I paint the colored hues which life is made of.
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Your love / I want to self medicate myself / with fusions of your love. / I’ll take what ever bit you wish to give. / It doesn’t have to be much, / a crumb can suffice my need for you. / I need to breathe the same air as you, / inhale the same oxygen / of which you enjoy so freely. / I want to daydream in the morning / with thoughts of you. / while having my cup of joe. / I want to inj…
I dreamt I was making love to you. / Your face touching mine. / Your lips warm and supple, wet to the touch. / I felt you breath upon my face, / your essence touching mine. / In my dream your arms reaching for my body, / your eyes fixed on mine. / I could feel your desire, / it made my heart skip a beat. / You were on top of me reaching for my body, / and I was a willing participant in …
Shame comes in a small paper bag, / I have carried it around like my special lunch bag. / I wait until noon time to sit alone in the cafeteria, / placing a napkin on my lap and another on my chin. / I take a look around to make sure that I won’t be disturbed. / Then slowly I open the bag and pull out it’s contents, one by one. / This holy hour, the break time for most. / “…
Desire / His tongue spiels liquid poetry upon my ear and mind. / I think of all the things he says focusing on every word, / letting every syllable play a soft alluring tune that catches my depth. / Each moment spoken makes me fall into a river. / It drowns my senses and blinds my mind. / My eyes, they fall deeply in this dream, / and I have no choice but to follow it. / His tongue spiels liq…