the day starts when the moon rises.
i wake up in the morning
feeling mighty blessed
make it back to this earth
and was safe throughout my rest
my body didn’t turn its back on me
didn’t stop the flow or the beat
and my mind recollects and reminisces new memories
but never for too long, the potential of now is just too strong
for me to keep thinking bout the songs
the then and the wrongs,
the routes i could have gone,
forgive self and live on.
to do the duty of the truest,
truly, the most rewarding experience,
everytime i lift my pen,
write my mantra in ink then,
I recognize again where I am in this pen,
How the world seems to form from the two-dimensional realm,
a picture of film….
The Sad Terrible Truth Regarding The Pursuance of An Institutional Fine Arts Degree
(as described in four panels.)
____
I will obtain a Fine Arts degree & reach a metaphysical degree synonymously:
till I ‘master’ me, finally,
Ph.D.
this chune.
black.widow(s).
arachnids keep spinning tangled strands
that collect in the upper corner of my ceiling
cobwebs hold cellulose and dust of my thoughts resting in peaces
the debris of living are always above and bellow me.
It’s funny how I could fear something so small but so deadly
as if eight eyes can see through me more clearly
and the slight chance that venomous bites running and ruining my bloodstream
can keep me from exploring the corners of my mind
itsy bitsy spiders in the water spout of which i’m afraid to take a drink
even if its for the life of me…
as if every fear was compacted in the spider’s symmetry
and every poison was your words i used to believe
what a tangled web i weave.
afraid of the black widow that could one day be me
afraid of the poison that passion could bring
the fear that is stirred within when venom leaves my lips
and infects the ears that listen…
shortly after the sporadic decision to pierce my nose, I caught a slight head cold. I am recovering now.
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