final poster for pechakucha night. i got to play with paint. win-win.
it is not a new story, but one told through this voice, this time. . . the voice that strives to hear itself in truest form. . . it is an exercise in muscle, a peeling and a prying away, a pushing through and a purpose of being.
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20130809
20130806
ode to Heart
she amazes me, the Heart.
so resilient in her path
gentle and uncompromising
no baggage for the trip,
she knows
the only way to Life
a Heart unburdened with
that monstrous conductor pleading no, wait, please
where are we going? I must know, I must!
yet cannot bully the heart,
yet cannot bully the heart,
who yields, who smiles
who sees.
be strong dear one, and persevere—
Yours is the noblest endeavor.
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testament to Self
I don’t wish to die with secrets on my lips
I want my hands dirty
to use this vessel
wear it out
marked up n down by a life worth living &
dirt beneath my fingernails
I don't want one part left untouched
saved up for rainy days
wondering what was to be had—
I will swallow the sun
I will drink down the rain
Every day a sacrament.
to use this vessel
wear it out
marked up n down by a life worth living &
dirt beneath my fingernails
I don't want one part left untouched
saved up for rainy days
wondering what was to be had—
I will swallow the sun
I will drink down the rain
Every day a sacrament.
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