Artist

I wish I could draw a picture of how I would present a self portrait.
A hollowed out cantaloupe on the back right side of my skull; a toilet paper tube as my right eye, a piece of rebar through my neck; a giant corkscrew as my left shoulder, an overstuffed sausage casing as my left forearm and wrist; an exploding pot bellied stove as my abdomen, a gnashing set of gears as my right knee; a railroad spike jammed in my right hip; and a bullet hole right in the middle of my forehead.
But, alas, I cannot draw, I cannot paint, I cannot sketch, I cannot sculpt, I cannot carve.  I'm imprisoned by two dimensions.
Ineffable visions flattened into unremarkable words, squeezed into a bland palette of sentences that tell no tale of profound expression.
Absurd insight, ignorant observation, futile perception.  Exposed, at last, as imperfect; exposed, at last, as a fraud.  Exposed, at last, as human.

between binary

The raindrops pat out a language all their own
Soothing, comforting, placating
Burning, alarming, distressing
As the drops hit, the beautiful melodies register
The silence in between the shrieks and horror appear
Dark and Light
Yin and Yang
Full and Empty
Dancing and Still
Instinct versus Consciousness
Good versus Bad
Enlightenment versus Ignorance
Pure versus Labels
The background noises blotted out by the waves at impact and vacuum.  No choice but to listen to the duality and hear the the infinity between zero and one.

Simply Blue

I wept for the air I breathe
The ocean kept and danced and mingled with my tears
The wind swept the melancholy away
A peace crept into my being
I wiped my eyes and stepped renewed into the day