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…
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.
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…
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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To support your work, I also upvoted your post!
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you really got into that one.. great photo to use.
:)
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He intrigues me
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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.
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Thanks. I was thinking of putting a nothing-burger image there, but decided to use one that was relevant...
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Rocking poem @wales, that must be a strong joint passed around the rummy table.
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Thank you. As a writer I write
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You got me there on the beautiful madness of Van Gogh. Funny as I just watched a movie about him last night.
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I liked Van Gogh the very first moment I heard of him
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