Tiredness can get to you sometimes. Sometimes it’s about the speed of it, and other times it’s about the things it enables you to think about just before you pass out somewhere while wearing a massive raincoat.
Unintentional occurrences like this can cause nightmares or lovely dreams or anything in-between the infinite spaces of your imagination.
Now, this piece had not a lot to do with the above. . .well, other than being on a bed whilst writing it. With my recent pieces (based on my quick observation and reflection) I am finding it is almost always some element of what is directly occurring in the moment that leads itself into the writing, and usually things seem like they are already underway rather than just beginning.
A note: what I’m saying here is I believe that writing tired–or creating, for that matter–can sometimes produce instances of that in-between area of shifting awareness and bring about a dream-like nature to the creation. This is what I have explored with this small piece and its accompanying drawing.
Anyway readers and visitors, I hope you enjoy it.
Likewise, if you have anything to share–be it comments, feedback of any kind, or are more interested in the work either a) leave a comment or b) head to my website or my Facebook page for more information and examples of my work.
Thanks!
Tom.
VESTAL SHORE
Vestal eyes burn through the evening’s tide.
Where incarnadine and pinkish hue skew the violets and the blues
And opal strands and rosy bands fall over themselves loosely.
I’m on flagrant sail, on a journey where our trembling bud begins
to expose her silky keel of deep maroon.
And your eyelids close
As our breath erodes
To where we are not afloat
But now levitating to an annunciating force
Through the temporal ridges of her bridge
Beyond the smoky shore with raspy stalks and static halls
Where the sun itself stares alone;
A protruding crescent shaping the unknown
Welcome home
Welcome home.
His Empty Space 