do you ever pave your day with good intentions only to step on a piece of glass, not hard enough to cut skin but smart enough to stop your footsteps – circle back, try to walk it off – shake it away – but then you sit down and just stare at the clouds and wait for the rain to come down, washing away trace of limestone or glass or ideas that you had scattered amongst the detritus that clings to frozen branches waiting with spindling arms to embrace your cold branches hanging in defeat for was not the sun shining when you woke but now it is a field filled with crows escaping that dark beast who has draped the sky in ink
(there were good intentions to visit all of you who are kind enough to comment on my mediocrity or to attempt to read it and give me a thumbs up… alas, 3 AM came early and the day broke early and this afternoon of good intentions before libraryland asks for my body to man its evening fort, i sit in front of this ghost of a machine and listen to something that has passed me – passed you – passed life - in a dream his guitar opens my eyes and in it there is a taste of clay soil baked by southern sun while parched lips quest for something to fill a void left by an empty river left behind by a grand dam that had to water millions of mouths)
this really tells you nothing, does it, so here it is for i share because his story moved me and it may move you for many of you, dear readers, are of such depth and understand the demons that come with creativity, demons that are strong enough even to beat down the path laid with golden intentions for the stronghold got hold and started melting everything until the last step was beyond where the material world could go. and some of us were not blessed enough to know him while he was here, only to read a RIP and wonder “who is this” and go read – go discover spend an hour listening to his soul pour forth and wonder – how did i miss this beauty?
we can never hold beauty, though, for it is fleeting and you risk tearing its wings if you place it in a cage – so we must set it free for all to find it in a blink, in a dream, in a post from a ghost that fills a machine with words who sometimes wonders….
(i shall try to visit all of you very soon ~ a)