I like hiding in my lines… Sometimes wheels are turning too fast. Relax. Crash. Body dies. Spirit never leaves. Such a mystery. ‘Running down your dream’ To find out what it means, we must dig deep. Touch hearts. Feel hurt. What is freedom? In a world of restrictions. Worn out paths. All sides are at…… Continue reading Dreaming Among the Stars
I started Spiritual in a Religious Town with enthusiasm and a somewhat clear mind, I wrote about Astrology and History. But I slipped into my soul’s hiding place, the poetic world. Nuclear war threats, deadly huricanes, the worst mass shooting in American history, and losing a dreamer like Tom Petty began forcing a crack into…… Continue reading King Donald
I try to find you in everyone. But no one is like you. It feels like there are ties. Indivisible ones. Between individual souls. That makeup who we are. They are the bonds of love and hate. Represented by the doors. I can feel the boundaries. You cannot walk through a random door and expect…… Continue reading The Doors
Get me out of here! HELP!!! The grocery store is a utopia. All ethnicities can find their cultural dinners. Healthy aisles full of vegan bars and chia seeds. Ice cream, cookies, cakes, and donuts. Sugar free. Fat free. Cholesterol free. Pumped full of Vitamins A, B, C, and D! Decorate your home with fabrics, furniture,…… Continue reading Utopia?
My creations. Fairy Tales. Holy worlds. Really just symbols on a page to escape the blockade. Reality. “It hits you in the face.” Where do you escape? Home? They say it is where the heart is… But I think it must be where IT hibernates. Our beds are like clouds. Dreamy sleep. Hot meals. Sick…… Continue reading Home Is Where the Heart Is?
Sunflowers dance in the wind. Radiating yellow. Over miles of fields, they spread magic. Twelve-foot stalks. Blooming buds by the thousand. I wish to live and die in the sunflower’s shower of Earthy delights.
She longs to create something real. To make others feel. Earth. Wind. Fire. Water. From the inside. With her lines. Instead, She waits for a Full Moon. She sets out her Greens. Yellows. Reds. Blues. On an eight-foot canvas, She creates her muse. Hoping it fulfills the restless spirits; Until her rhyme will do.