Listening to soft music
foggy windows
a hundred frogs croaking in unison on a warm, wet, night
an orange tinted moon
mud- softened by light rain
dappled sunlight
warm bathwater
freshly cleaned bed sheets
sage- while it’s growing, not when it has been cut for burning
a cat who has let his tongue loll out of his mouth
candle light
bells ringing
lichen
sea glass
a small waterfall
a small, deep pool surrounded by fine sand
white puffy clouds that look like wool stuffing
afternoon mountains
human footprints
footprints of any kind
chanting
the sound of a fire
the night of a holiday, when one can hear people talking loudly and yelling in the distance
voices in unison
a ripe white nectarine
silk and steel guitar strings
accordian keys
an old vinyl record
the softness of animal fur
the reflections of street lights on wet pavement
water beads on glass or leaves
an old person who is smiling
a large quantity of small objects
fish scales catching light of any kind
marbles
delicate hands
unblemished skin
a baby chick who tries to venture away from its mother
a cat sneeze
the moment it begins to rain
watching an egret catch a mouse and eat it
the mood swing of a child
the smell of walnut oil
tomatoes
hand made paper
white birch trees
a camel running
a penguin walking
ice water in an ornate glass cup
hand sewn garments of any kind
red hair
freckles
wooden jewelry
bare feet
unshaven armpits
building a cobb structure
watching steam rise from a hand made ceramic mug
polaroid transfer
a chinese kite
pebbled beaches
thick fog
the relief of sitting after walking for miles
mosquito netted beds
tatami mats
a chinese fan
a long dress woven of bamboo fiber worn in the peak of summer
swimming naked in a lake
or ocean
sifting through sand with only one’s fingers
old mother of pearl buttons
flared pants made of cashmere
coconut water
a compliment from a stranger
complimenting a stranger
an unexpected touch from a stranger
talking a long walk by moonlight
a strong breeze at sunrise
shafts of sunlight
redwood trees
small white flowers in a great number
canoeing
nudity
long wavy hair
green eyes
the scent of a street full of woodburning fireplaces
polished stones
fossils
brightly colored insects
paper mache
origami
sketches
photographic prints
and
sheer sleeves.
Self Portrait
reflections
head lights
on an oily street
beads of rain
streaked silver
gelatin
emulsified waste strewn
haphazard
like thoughts of those
who have
not.
numbered buildings
a timeline of progress
moments
slipping
past
through gaps
in fingers
the touch
the kiss
the subtle caress
missed
listen
for slight
inflections of speech
soft sputters
simple words uttered
in desperation
from eyes looking
sideways
trapped
in a limbo volley
calling
for acceptance
falling
downcast.
bound to laws
not of a universe
but of a single entity
frenetic
screeching
sounds erupting unconsciously
unaware
of one’s own greatness
self imposing vanity
symbiotic by nature
earnestly,
“you can rely on me.”
leading lines
dependence on time
fabrications construct our reality
as we
perceive
absorb
synthesize
arrive at conclusions
weave illusions
allude
to something greater
but never
quite accept.
reject,
instead,
instinct- pre programmed
by our need for sanity
control
power
destruction
from one touch- i can move mountains
love is the fountain of youth
a well of gratitude
a healing power.
witness witchcraft
infatuation
obsession with acceptance keep
intimate words
trapped
between pillows
blankets wrapping sentiments
like ethereal presents
box it up
organize expressions in catalogue.
each monologue a speech
fit
for the ears
of sentient queens.
all speech treasured
buried with maps
guiding lofty travelers
who seek
truth.
they may find it inside souls unabashed
not leasing life these are the owners of actualization
real estate.
dictating what fate will bring,
will carry
in open arms
forgiving
nurturing
faith
- in some universal goodness
inherent
uncorrupted
pure like freshly melted glaciar
clear,
like recently watered skies.
see:
with eyes unclouded by disease
of mind
of men
distant or near:
the taste of fear lingers,
palpable.
looming shadows cast
by our monuments
darken doorways
drench sunlight
and extinguish
fires
meticulously tended by
lovers
live-ers
good do-ers
of deeds behooving all who
breathe
air fresh or putrified flesh-
we need it all.
there is no part that can be removed.
surgical precision cannot replace synergy forged
slowly
painfully
through the death
of countless cells
countless stars
count less
on careful planning
smother thoughts
and
FEEL.
(Source: nicoletnelson.com)
(via whoresatmydoor)
Dalton Flint
mi-figues
[video]