Was someone watching me that night
When ship was lost to watery grave
How strange it was to see that eye
My body drifting ‘neath the wave
It wanted me for meal time
It stared at me with baleful gaze
And as my vision went to black
In my last dark thoughts I prayed
That I be gone from this old life
My final thought, I must be brave
I did not feel its steely teeth
When I became the snack he craved
This is a series composed of art and what I call micro-verse. I attempt to augment the art through words written spontaneously to match that art. Micro-verse is meant to take you to a deeper place of meaning within the art. If the images and words offensive, just remember that not all art is meant to be cute. Some is meant to make you think and sometimes to even take offense.
I came home from the great earthquake to find
My house tilted, windowpanes cracked
The foundation left in rubble
My city in smoldering ruins all around me
A mass exodus of refugees fleeing on pitted streets
Yet I remained
Saint Francis protect us
My adoration for this city could withstand anything
My home wasn’t this domino tilted building
It was everything around me
From the Mission to the Bays
I would never leave
Saint Francis keep us safe
This is a series composed of art and what I call micro-verse. I attempt to augment the art through words written spontaneously to match that art. Micro-verse is meant to take you to a deeper place of meaning within the art. If the images and words offensive, just remember that not all art is meant to be cute. Some is meant to make you think and sometimes to even take offense.
I saw a fairy skitter past
”What brings you to my home” I asked
He stopped and turned with eyes so wise
“Yon candle in the window lies
I thought the sun to early rise”
“It is not the sun that shines so bright
But simple wick to light the night”
He locked his eyes upon the flame
“I will not curse or hold you blame
Till hungry dark the rays reclaim”
And so he watched, with eyes agog
Til dawns rays came and burned the fog
I now depart, I must not stray
“Father sun brooks no delay”
He disappeared into the haze
I am the spirit of the Bonhomme Richard
I burned in 1779
I burned in 2020
I will burn again
The merging of fire and water
Brave warriors on my deck
My great guns silenced
I will rise again from the waves
It is my destiny
Oh man, you don’t know what you do
You play with the fire of the Gods
You don’t understand the portals you may open
The pains you bring upon yourself
These doors remain closed to you for a reason
You are infants playing with a match that burns you to ash
Your religions are children’s tales
Parables made to teach but lost in translation
Beware
They placed me in an empty box
Medicated on the hour
Padded each and every wall
So I could not hide or cower
But voices spoke
Their cadence dour
Assuring greatness
If I’d devour
The souls of all
I then would tower!
Then I saw a butterfly
Alight upon a tiny flower
And forgot the voices
As I chased a bee into a bower
And there I stayed
The voices sour
To be overthrown
By natures power
I am the first to fall into a black hole
I am in the event horizon
I feel very strange
Every second has slowed
All of creation is around me
I see my moldering bones after death
I see the sperm that will become me moving slowly towards life
And I see my soul swirling around me.
It is the universe
It is me
It is everyone and everything
It is what came before and what will come after
I create it all
I am God
You bring the deadly storms
But I bring the rains that grow your crops
I curse thee nature
You bring the hell of winters cold
But I give you spring to renew you
I curse thee nature
You tore up my home with tornadoes
But I give you gentle winds on a summer’s day
I curse thee nature
And I bless you child of man who destroys all
This is a series composed of art and what I call micro-verse. I attempt to augment the art through words written spontaneously to match that art. Micro-verse is meant to take you to a deeper place of meaning within the art. If the images and words offensive, just remember that not all art is meant to be cute. Some is meant to make you think and sometimes to even take offense.
This is a series composed of art and what I call micro-verse. I attempt to augment the art through words written spontaneously to match that art. Micro-verse is meant to take you to a deeper place of meaning within the art. If the images and words offensive, just remember that not all art is meant to be cute. Some is meant to make you think and sometimes to even take offense.
With chaos all around
The fates in his hands
The rains of destiny fall
Threatening deluge to wash away all
One hand ready to squeeze
The other ready to cast all into darkness
What does it weigh, this pitiful world
The guardian of the scales ponders
I
died today
My body prepared
Fluids drained
Face powdered
Hands folded
My last thought gone
Final regrets ended
The universe halts
One last light shrinking away to darkness
Then silence
This is a series composed of art and what I call micro-verse. I attempt to augment the art through words written spontaneously to match that art. Micro-verse is meant to take you to a deeper place of meaning within the art. If the images and words offensive, just remember that not all art is meant to be cute. Some is meant to make you think and sometimes to even take offense.
This is a series composed of art and what I call micro-verse. I attempt to augment the art through words written spontaneously to match that art. Micro-verse is meant to take you to a deeper place of meaning within the art. If the images and words offensive, just remember that not all art is meant to be cute. Some is meant to make you think and sometimes to even take offense.
Do you dance the dance of life?
To music only you can hear
Musicians in the shadows play
An orchestra hidden everywhere
Its rhythms tell you where to go
To set your steps in patterns clear
Fates dance and spin their webs
But humans close their hearing ears
Till errant feet do stray away
The path is lost to all but tears
This is a series composed of art and what I call micro-verse. I attempt to augment the art through words written spontaneously to match that art. Micro-verse is meant to take you to a deeper place of meaning within the art. If the images and words offensive, just remember that not all art is meant to be cute. Some is meant to make you think and sometimes to even take offense.
