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The poems have been delivered as a pregnant woman having the child of the aesthetic in her. I have tried painting words, writing words as abstract music. There are many moods, all poetic and sublime. I enjoyed bringing new tropes into existence, a painless labor that breathes with my soul.
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2016
Dry and withered ----
displaced from the tree
as a corpse by the
reckless Zephyr ......
The wind
floating it now
as a funeral ritual....
It's being trampled
now by grinding wheels,
Powder now,
RIP
A dark coat
torn lay across
the sky...
The witch's
lantern is glistening
the sorcery of music ....
Pale light of red,
from the artist's brush
is changing melody
to a darker hue ....
There, there now, the
lion's jaw is open
and celebrating
a Chinese festival.....
Time's a hazy sketch
of myriad impressions...
Swaying in blithe ballet ....
bringing night to a
wholseome music.
Winged yellow fancy,
you float an aesthetic of
musical poetry.....
Now you are perched,
an ornament of nature's
magical concotion....
You wander like the hands
of an artist
moving the beauty of paint
on to an yielding canvass ....
Time has become a
stringed guitar ....
gently plucking on
to a melodious Blues ....
You are scenting the
flower's fragrance ....
Talking to the bees
in the language of Heavens.....
You are words of poetry
engulfed in mystical time
you light and sound my senses
to a pulchritude of a river
that's flowing with verses
of poetic meaning.