Out of the Gutter Art
Outrageous Bipolar Expressions
Category: dreams
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Where do I disappear to, when I stop creating? Inert. Inept. Inconsequential and inconsolable. I know I will be with her soon, I feel a withering inside. A withdrawal from the actual. An inward turning, accepting that I am finite. That, perhaps, I did not survive the whirlwind physically unscathed. Yet they find no marks…
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IT’S HOT, I’M TIRED.. Night fell, and we were ready by Burt’s golden chariot. What an amazing vehicle it was. Huge, glistening, bearing his name proudly on the door in script as the owner/operator. This was no drugged-out short-timer. No, Mr. Burt was the real deal, hauling real steel. A true gentleman, he helped…
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Oh Joyful heart, where are you today? From so much light I now feel only pain. Where did my optimism run away to hide, Why now this dread that cannot be denied? She thought she had come away unscathed, from the turmoil, the abuse …and rage. But disease was just below the surface all along,…
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“so I love you So…”
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oh so WHITE AND SHINY… Waiting for my pen, for my brush. I just cant stand the barrenness of it, stretching of into the infinite distance, saying nothing. I cant sit in silence either, in a social setting. I would be awful in an interrogation, babbling mindlessly- wait… not mindlessly. I do get chatty, but…
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“It’s ALL a gift…”
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“I was high on life, and probably paint fumes and Columbian Gold…it felt cool…”
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“…walking into the sunlight of my artistic future!”
Out of the Gutter Art 