Some poems are rather multimedically presented, and cannot be expressed
Rainbow High, and Sky Bright
Above the dream, above my life
I fear I may, I fear I might,
Mystic Nights, Maidens True,
Soft Sweeping Swells of meaningless white nothings.
Time is irrelevant (there is only tomorrow)
Just as the Simplicity approaches perfection
The Bell Rings.
Quotes from an e.e. cummings poem, [I thank thee god for this most amazing day]
My Hollow Eyes
Gazing from behind My Hollow Eyes
White sunlight streams over my effigy Extending a great shadow over
I would have my brief spark ring bright and shine true.
Dark Clouds Swirl Overhead
Swirling, Rushing, Overwhelming, Enveloping
Wind; chilling to the bone,
Rain; washing away excitement,
to this life, but not the next.
Drives my heart:
Bass shakes itself through my blood,
The highest form of Art,
Today I depend on another's hard work; Someday I Shall Create My Own.
To feel the unbearable urge to roll down the window and take in the cold, fresh air while driving your car at high speeds.
To listen to music so moving, it makes you want to cry, but you feel restricted by your generalized social values.
To run so fast you can feel the spontaneous, powerful release of the accumulated tension from years of frustration and withheld emotion.
To crave the sanctity of tender romantic love (Dearest JoJo)
To know and be swept away by the temporary emotional high brought about through victory.
To understand and be crushed by the devastating defeat, which only leads to the downward spiral of infinite defeats.
To gaze up into the stars; and feel so infinitesimally special.
To want to convey your feelings upon paper; but be unable to express yourself as you wished.
To challenge that which others may blindly accept; to believe in what others doubt.
"Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)"
"Let them say: His most wise music stole nothing from death"
Death is no enemy of mine.
Mother log, I grow from thee
Perhaps there is a future for me? -- I yearn to
fill my place
My thoughts are honest,
My intentions proud.
to inspire, to astound.
Pictures of Childhood
My heart is warm
it sure is sentimental
to sit in this grove | while leaves are falling,
and reminisce of times gone by.
Children together, their innocent glee
they spread out in pairs -- arguing, but free
(of this harsh modern world which so often is cold)
they are so brave, so brave and so bold, no worry of being a'scold
;their little hearts are joy!
they appreciate nature's beauty, and revel in it's taste:
a picture of things before they all change, before your life slips away in a drain.
If they could only picture their innocence, their grace, their face,
twenty years hense,
when they are my age and
wondering why everyone is so cold?
i don't want to
I DON'T UNDERSTAND
love - hate - LIFE
what is it like?
Part of the fun is in the exploration.
Who are you?
with wind whispering into your delicate ear.
forgiven so quickly
My Fear. . .
the beckoning blindness of procrastination
My Motivation. . .
what is worth the work I freely give?
time-softened guilt seeping graduly within my soul.
WHO AM I ???????
All poems are copyright Kevin Watt, 1997!