Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Concept in Escape

And by the way, i let my mind wander and it flew away.
It"ll rue the day when it makes a re-appearance,
as i've become accustom to it's absence, it only lives on in my spirit-

but nothing more, as its thoughts were not me,
I'm no longer facing my opposite like a pair of knock knees.

I walk straight now like one sails the seven seas,
when it's surface immitates glass with a view that's streak free.

What's in you is in me, and its the same vice versa,
so why not ascend heights together and guide each other like sherpas-

until we reach the peak, which posses views like a machete-
in reference to clarity, by this journey we we slay the yeti.

And dont think of this as something obscurity holds dear,
its as normal- as days past when we all respected our morals-

like a guild of theives would die by a code of concealed keys,
that were usually unseen and caught sheen when unsleeved.

Essential credo, active like working ventricles,
work out many miracles, wide spead like spraying aresols

which render living art like watching the human play,
imbibing the joy expressed- un-like that thought that got away.

©Krishna Volk 2010

Thursday, March 18, 2010

The Dark Inside the Frame

The dark inside the frame
is a print of a memory
remaining on the pull
of our attention.
It could reach outside
if it wasn't concerned
about its shape.

It curls, believing in its self -
moving through what it was
moments before. Sleep is a dream
that it will never remember.
Its form has no patience
for stillness. Waiting
would give it breath, but becoming
alive would allow sight.
As soon as you see yourself,
you are not there.

Monday, March 1, 2010

Soul Sentiments

Picture this, a scene from an epic,

beamed with a light so intense that it triggers epileptics-

into the modern day, fine art with a modern sway,

reaches out and touches the dead speaking to them inaudibly.

Whispering winds animate atrophied limbs,

when the sublties of all that is lovely begin settling in-

and taking root, the root cause of joy speaking in mute,

spoke quietly of itself like air passes through flutes.

Beautiful; pictures worth a thousands of words living on easels,

spring to life like soil life when light lays waste to the evil-

that being the darkness, colors of grey give a shade it's carcass,

in the wake of it's destruction divinity choirs a string of notes like a harp is;

That's what the heart is.

©Krishna Volk 2010