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Literature Text
perfect glass film
born in the dark
from silver and light
cartier-bresson moment
of sudden clarity
seven hundred beds
on devon beach
a perfect storm
rough beddings swelling
in a high tide
grainy and out of focus
hot steamy lips
full of neon mirages
bloodred pulsing moon
dripping down cold legs
a riddle
of death and ecstasy
transgressive spur
in a hungry side
the obsession
...
born in the dark
from silver and light
cartier-bresson moment
of sudden clarity
seven hundred beds
on devon beach
a perfect storm
rough beddings swelling
in a high tide
grainy and out of focus
hot steamy lips
full of neon mirages
bloodred pulsing moon
dripping down cold legs
a riddle
of death and ecstasy
transgressive spur
in a hungry side
the obsession
...
Literature
Mood
It's like my moodOf all the things that I can see,
The rain falling over me,
The ground so wet,
I'm full of regret,
It's like my mood.Thunder clapping around my ears,
My eyes saw sparking lights,
The sky so grey,
What can I say,
It's like my mood.The sky then cleared,
And the thunder disappeared,
The sky so blue,
What can I do,
It's like my mood.
Literature
vibrating down Street Spring
vibrating down Street Spring stoicly
Feedback into me navy blue unity[always and Everywhen butterflies
flitter up ego death skin; i
know how the feeling paints
I'll show how easily for months wait]
___________feeling this moment where to begin'Art is the Art of Art' face painted "existential ecstasy" organs:Laughter!;Singing!;Dancing!; fractal infinite out hours,
Canvas Me and this makesense over covers---
giddy with sun bleach passion rainbows all over our face.
Literature
theoretical layers
and the snowflakes that hide behind our eyes,
as we compress them to close, melting around our hearts,
dampening a too exciting feeling, falling on a cedar tree
from whence we fell, laughing, and I think perhaps
a one-sided heart cracks its own eggs open.The stones themselves enunciate their praise,
and all, we, tremble to bear upon their steadfastness,
a chivalrous guard against a whiling wind, dead
in a despairing song, tumultuous and contrary
to our living claims, and it is as silent as its name.I concern over the state of our campfire
as you feed it your life, as it hungers all the while,
as we thirst all the more for the rain to quenc...
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English is not my first language so minor mistakes are inevitable, I apologise for them.
If someone were interested in illustrating my texts or using them as song lyrics, that would be more than welcome.
© 2019 - 2026 bohurtpotato
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