Black Dog Melancholia

Black Dog Melancholia

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Black dog melancholia

Seems to be
My natural state
I hate
that fact

I want to be all bright colored
Orange, Lime, Grapefruit, Pink
Apparently emanating a sweet citrus smell
And I work HARD toward that end

But some days
Exhausted
I wish I was comfortable
Nestled in the BlueGloom
So that life
Need not be
So effortful

But I’m not
So I put it forth
Searching for a way
To “STAY!” then walk away
From the black dog

*written to share in The Garden

Fear of Falling

Kim 2-18-13 at 10.27 AM ... Fear of Falling

Fear of Falling… Falling… Falling…
Despite an attitude of gratitude
Times occasionally
Elicit grief
Sadness
Want

Tears

Cling
To lower lid
Hovering just above
Cheek exerting every cell
To avoid falling, falling, falling

Is
this
why I
harbor a
fear of falling?

Vincent The Sublime

“I put my heart and my soul into my work, and have lost my mind in the process.”

~ Vincent van Gogh

Short sharp strokes of pigment and sweat

Create the scene before you

Yet

It’s different.

Sparks and electricity

Chemical and energetic eccentricity

Imbue you with vision peculiarly

Unique to your wondrous mind

And time.

Brilliance

Madness

Illness

Sadness

So many possible impetuses

Behind the canvases

Of

Vincent the Sublime

*Prompted by Tess Kincaid at Magpie Tales