Thoughts

I am so completely thrilled that I wrote (and posted) something the other day! It’s disappointing that the first thing I write in more than two years has to be so full of anger, but hey! I wrote something!!

Hopefully this means that I am slowly opening myself up to my creativity again!

On another completely different stream of thought: I’m considering merging my photography blog and this one; posting a photo I’ve taken with a piece of writing I’ve done.

Any thoughts?

Derail this enveloping wrath
that walks amongst us
with seeking hands, filling
our very being with its misdeeds; turning
us into something which we are not,
and some of us claim not to be.

This witch hunt of sins and sinners,
proclaiming themselves saints
amongst the lowly.
Who really is pure? Cast
the first stone of
hypocrisy.

Minds ablaze with pride and contempt,
we long for peace.

18th April, 2013 | The first piece I’ve written in almost two years! It’s such a shame that the first one in so long has to be so angry.

Colours of the Bush

The yellow of a bush that
is burning yet is not burnt
catches the eye, seeming bright
against shades of muted green.
All around are white buds of cotton,
patches of smoky purple;
reds, blues, pinks, orange and violet:
every colour of the rainbow bursts forth,
and the slender ghosts of the bush watch on
as their domain comes alive with colour.

(Source: casuallygifted)

A quiet ev’ning

divulging knowledge from the

eternal voices

A blank creation,

Never changing, ever sta-

-tic movement; divide.

creativehypocrisy:

The words build up,
until they pour out of me
in sentences, verses & rhymes.

Take on a new form;
become what has worn
down a new place in my mind.

What I mean it to be
differs from what you see,
but who am I to say what is true,

when the truth is subjective,
and I cannot be directive?
What I mean should not be the same for you.

Take my feelings into consideration
when you find an occupation
for your free mind and free time.

What I record
is not because I’m bored;
it has meaning when it comes from my mind.

Boredom is motivation
to inspire imagination,
but it often has meaning, too.

When I write, it’s for joy,
and sometimes to employ
perspective on my mind from a new view.