Some gin rummy joint

in powerhousecreatives •  6 years ago 

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Every moment the moment becomes more precious until what is made becomes no longer and we become one with what is.

But we are all lovers here where we speak to each other from our hearts where the reflection is our love.

But madness comes in strange disguises…

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From nowhere

I heard words

In my ear

Saying things to me:

“We are not trans-scripted enough here

For that to lay another egg,”

Said the transcription brigade in my best ear

So I carried on crawling through the desert

Until I’d been arrested fifteen times

Which is when I gave up crawling through the desert

And turned around and began crawling home; and

To hell with the voices in my ear

Okay, I was a real lover

And I became all that I could pray to

Until I cut my ear off and

Screamed to be left in peace to work alone

And then I heard someone say that it must be madness

I mean: what else could it be?

I paint pictures here

I said to the madness

Please leave me alone… said the painter to the madness.

A clip board appeared

To say that the next scene would happen soon

And sooner than soon it came and gave

Granular spoons to the masses

A hand-out, to pep them all up a bit

So I said: all I really know is that

I have mushrooms growing out of my ears.

I could not explain this

Not to anyone, for anything.

The lover’s refrain was upon me

Where I was but a moon-song in my swaying

A lover’s dance then; something in the wind…

No, I’m better off alone.

I see that now.

How could I waste all my energy

As some kind of clown

Playing the game

Where every moment was wasted doing it

Oh yes, how could I?

The next clipboard to be waved in front of my eyes

Had a suggestion attached to it that said

How can you lose what you’ve never found

So I said back to it

How can I find something I’ve never lost?

One of the gin rummy players

Over in the corner

Glanced up at me for the briefest moment

As if to say

Come down from that joint, you’ve had enough.

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I was dealing fast

And didn’t want to come up for anything

As the next hand went down around the table

There was cigarette smoke all over the place

And a girl, peering through it, at me.

I had trees creatures in the future developments

I had postmen picking me up from the floor at night

I had dreams that were bright

Lost to the madness…

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I painted my last picture

In the dawn of my understanding

That I could never be perfect

Where the sun shone so bright

And the flowers grew so huge…

Image from Pixabay

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you really got into that one.. great photo to use.
:)

He intrigues me

This was wicked man. But do I ever hate how steemit requires us to post an image - I wish I had been able to see the Van Gogh connection myself, rather than expecting it, you know? But wicked none the less.

Thanks. I was thinking of putting a nothing-burger image there, but decided to use one that was relevant...

Rocking poem @wales, that must be a strong joint passed around the rummy table.

Thank you. As a writer I write

You got me there on the beautiful madness of Van Gogh. Funny as I just watched a movie about him last night.

I liked Van Gogh the very first moment I heard of him