Spunks creativity with pink lamps
speckled smiles spread around
the yarn ball unfurls itself and rolls
to the edge of the Earth over the cliff.
The ball mushes and morphs itself into
the ripples below. Minting ambiguity.
Sassing through, her fingers carress and cup
the clay to create shapes. They glow.
Zooming out from the green circles
Leaves. A corn maze. Running through
But she has no care for the Maze's implication
Order is dumb. Leaved branches do still break.
So. She sees the path, and still, ignores it.
Rips through past the leaves. Energy's curse.
Fiery shapes of translucence fester within
and overlap out of her mouth to scream.
She jumps over the barbed wire so that the
textures run around free. Rough sparkles. Soft spikes.
No speed. No time. No pre-associations.
Guess that's how it'll be today. Giving in.
The paper has curled out and the bliss is known.
No constraints can hold spunks creativity
The glowing clay is certain. The pink lamps are true.
The heaviness has dissolved and cleared.
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The ceiling fan. Textbook. Shopping bag. The Laundry basket. iPad. Rumpled bed. Searching for the best idea of the bunch, like ... -
Images of broken light dance before me like a million eyes Possessing and caressing me Waves of joy drift through my open mind ...
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It was a dark muscular truck monster wheels like biceps of steel. On that night, the big hulk rolled down my driveway, size surreal...
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