Cathartic <-- word of the year, and it is only January...

It is not the end of the world, but it is. In the venue of the arts, many things mean many things to many different people, but rarely the same to all. Life imitates art, and art inspires life, is that backwards... really.

If it is art that inspires life, and my life were to be inspired by art... this day my life is inspired by Sammy Hagar. Red, red, and more red.

That should be taken as you will, regardless of what any will tell you.

This is the shadow of a red flag.

This is echo, the ripple, the consequence...

and wordy... heh. *sighs*

^o^
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Just when you think...

This is the best time of my life ever.

Period.

^c^ is da bomb.

^o^ loves ^c^

^o^
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Fingernails on the chalkboard

Adult
Grown up
So responsible

Challenging the cries
of the youth transformable

Into what
shape
do we mold the clay

For what
reason
Do we act out this play

This ascension
This achievment
This wanted repentance
This needed acceptance

But what of my defiance
That devil on my left shoulder
The angel watching and smiling
Silent and bolder
all the while
Reaching
Seeking
No longer believing
In the truths so deceiving
Liek a relationship
ending
The realization
rending
To each his own
bending
every source
of valuable information
turned to political defimation

Deep breath
Deep sigh
Eyes dry
no urge to cry

No loss
Unless choosing
to see only that
Which we aree soon to be losing

Adult
So angry
So listened to and believed
We
We were the first
The front line of the decieved

^o^
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someone set us up the

Mood: Ponderous
Listening to: Down by the River
Reading: Necroscope Invaders (still)
Watching: Waiting

This poetry, the stuff I am adding... it is not new. It is often times more than a decade old. Importantly, though, is that it still teaches me, reminds me, and warns me of the many roads that lead to nowhere.

At least for me.

These poems are so intimate to me, they never expected to see th elight of day, though I have much joy from sharing. I credit my wonderful Chicula with motivating me to do more than just reread them and ponder my past, and my future.

It is a joy to hear people react to the words, especially when they bring their own travels into the experience of defining the meaning in the mess.

So, enjoy, but don't think I am feverishly pounding these babies out still. You see... I am one of those guys that rights when he is alone, depressed, or angry... and I am none of those things today. Today, instead of crooning to my own dying self-image, I am more than content in simply wallowing in the warmth of my family. And the cats.

Booter rules.

^o^
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all your are belong to us

Mood: Amazed
Listening to: Matrix Soundtrack
Reading: Necroscope Invaders
Watching: Grandma's Boy

It's interesting to view what some people refer to casually as or as not Art. Art is created, even if only by the passerby's admiration, in my opinion. My wife doesn;t feel she is creative enough to justify the art in her blood, but she can truly be amazing at times. She has recently found the flickr.com websites, and she is off and running!
Our youngest is already present of deviantArt, his own artistic skilzzorz on display.

I guess, I just wanted to see myself saying how much I loved art, and artists, and how some of the best don't even have a clue about the intelligent and thoughtful, passionate and introspective pieces they have before them.

Gotta love it.

^o^
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