You Found Me Dead

It’s midnight out my window

Though I have yet to dream

Tomorrow is today now

Without the morning beams

It’s in the night when I do

Take trips within the mind

My thoughts begin to be

The hollow, twisted kind

I question how it'd be

If I to you had said,

“The doctor claims I’m sick, dear,

Six months till I am dead.”

It blows my brains to think

That people know this fear

For me will this come true

Sometime within the year?

No really, take the time

To wonder what we’d do

Would lies all of a sudden

Begin to turn to truth?

We'd crawl beneath the sheets

And make the purest love

I might, too, turn to guidance

From unseen Lords above

To strangers on the street

I’d reach and shake their hand

Then pull them in much closer

To join me in my dance

Withdrawal from my old purse

The lame and petty cash

And pass it out to bums

So they could get their hash

I’d take a trip to London

To rest upon Jim’s grave

And weep at his own passing

To light from product slave

My mother would be near me

She’d hold me like before

And in her gentle rocking

Her love I would adore

I’d kiss all of the lips

My eyes would fall upon

I’d love all of my people

Before my time was gone

And I would take a boat

Onto a blue lagoon

Sing songs to ukuleles

While gazing at the moon

I’d dress well to the nines

Be draped from head to toe

The next day I’d walk freely

Around with zero clothes

Bring to me all the finest

Cheese, herbs, and Paris wines

Prepare for me a table

Let’s drink, and laugh, and dine!

I’d cry when all alone

Surrendering my will

Not knowing why it was

My body had gone ill

Then maybe I would see

Some things that I don’t now

Take one last gaze on fields

Inside of me to plow

Appears as though our lives

Grow like the grass in Spring

From knowing that one day

Death’s bell is sure to ring

So Anna, how can I

Live out my life as such

Release the narrow view

And ride the mortal rush?

I think it boils down

To really just one thing

You hear this from a song

The Beatle boys did sing

No matter what you know

From textbooks that you read

Life’s really very simple

‘Cause “love is all you need”.

Dear folks, to you I’d say

The thing’s I’ve never said

But only felt I could

Before you found me dead

THE FEATURE: Kimberly Faye Illustrations

I have been itching to feature an incredibly talented artist, from my “hometown” in Virginia, named Kimberly Faye.  Her illustrations and paintings have had their way with me each time She informs Her yearning viewers of a new piece.  I had the privilege to consider Her a dear kin when I was a new student to my public middle school.   She embraced my own quirkiness and allowed me to be myself.  I remember Her presence fondly.  I would catch Her collecting inspiration in the library as she checked out books featuring famous artists, such as Jimi Hendrix.  I rooted Her on, as a fellow peer, in a student design competition for a class t-shirt, which She inevitably won.  All in that to say, She had a very unique approach to Her work, which still shines brightly today.  Her creations have strongly touched many people, enough so for folks to get Her designs in the form of a tattoo.  Enjoy some selected pieces from Her collection.  If you like what you see as much as I do, go ahead and check out Her personal website featuring more works and merchandise.  Let Her now speak for Herself.

Website: www.kimberlyfayeillustrations.com/

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/KimberlyFayeIllustrations

Inhale

Special THANKS to you, Kimberly, for giving me permission to share.  

All are copyrighted works of Kimberly Faye, please respect the artist by remembering this

Sunday Morn'

How could I

For years and years

Not understand

My darkest fears

But just today

I think I might

Start getting me

And knowing why

Of what I love

And what I lack

That life is not

Just white and black

And all my smiles

They come from shame

When realized

I’m not to blame

The days that I

Do feel at peace

They stem from hours

My tears released

So what is god?

Dear gals and lads

Divine just good?

It’s also bad

Cause how can we

Know anything

Without the contrast

Sooth to sting

So let me tell you

What I be

There’s nice and fair

And pain in me

Just like a vine

I tangle, still

Producing wine

From labored fields

But then again,

I’ll never know

It’s Sunday morn’

I’ll let it go

The One

Let’s take a walk, just me and you

Within the park and forest, too

Would then you feel my presence strong?

And would my thoughts seem quite as wrong?

I’d wish for you to take my hand

Each other’s love on high demand

From there we’d let the moment be

What then would you possess from me?

We’d stop and gaze within the eyes

And let our lids release their cries...........

Damn, tell me how to get to you!

What is it that I’d have to do?

I give all that lies deep inside

Not much of me I try to hide

Sometimes I leave and yes, I’m gone

But only when I'm taken wrong

I yearn so much for your sweet touch

Against my soul, I ask not much

See, when we love, our love is good

So why am I misunderstood?

I’ll tell you how the story goes

Even if you’ll never know

'Cause this is what my life is for

To open up my dungeon doors

Wait, never mind, I take it back

An understood, my dear, you lack!-----

-----Oh god …………… I guess that I’M the fool

To stretch out long and reach for you

So dumb, so dumb, you lousy girl!

You know which life makes up Your world

It’s You that’s blind, oh can’t You see?

The one You want, oh self, is Me

Beauty Of Life

Wow.  My vocabulary, in my own native tongue, constantly escapes me.  Or, rather than escapes me, stays intensely confined in my limited mind.  I enjoy writing and do it in the same way that I feel the need to walk when having sat too long.  It’s a, oh god, dare I say, “release”.  Too many artists have used that word, and for good reason, but it doesn’t explain me well. 

I planned to be asleep several hours ago as to mentally and physically prepare for tomorrow’s continued exploration.  But as soon as the opportunity goes past the point of my intention, I change my intention to something else.  I cannot allow myself to sleep, though my eyes beg me.  I feel so beautifully overwhelmed in my constant state of awakening and wish to stay up to watch it.  Again, so desperately I desire to appropriately explain what I mean.  But I suppose I should change my intention and not say anything other than how it comes out. 

My time here in my new “home” has been just a little bit of everything.  Some of those things I never knew existed in me.   It’s like a storm.  Have you ever watched a frightening storm from the comfort of your home?  Because of its might you can't help but humbly examine how those unseen forces can effortlessly shape its planet.  And though scared at the sight of it, you yearn to be in the middle, believing it to be exhilarating against all of your sunny days.  I am in a great hurricane of newness that is powerfully forming the terrain within.  And it makes my life, while being aware that it could also take my life.

My invisible interior walls are shifting.  Nature is taking place in me and I can’t stop it, nor do I want to.  I’m slowly chipping away, gradually seeing what lies beyond the bricks that have haunted my spiritual streets.  And I can tell you that today another row fell and turned to a maroon dust that has simply blown away, forever disappearing into eternity.

What I believe to have come to is the ability to remain astounded by all that I experience, no matter the state of mind or emotion.  I have produced some brutal tears of question and doubt while injecting myself into this city.  But even in that time the light of the moon catches my eye to remind me of what it is that captivates me on an infinite level.  It takes me out of my moment of fear and puts me into the essence of life.  While allowing myself to squirm in torment, because it is necessary, the discomfort gives me an opportunity to call upon that which feeds my curiosity and wonder.  Such as the light of the moon that I can see from my window now. 

It’s not over.  As soon as I become comfortable, and the “winds” die down, another storm will brew when my planet needs renovating.  I have become so thankful in this time of my little life.  I don’t take anything lightly that has gotten me here.  Here!  This moment NOW.  That could be just about anything, like my darkness, my light, and all the events I’ve ever managed to come across.  My pain allows my eyes to see.  And what I gaze upon is the beauty of my life.  

My Grave

The greatest test of time

Is giving up the self

To pack up what you hold

Then rest upon a shelf

And what you think you know

Well really, you do not

In knowledge you will lose

The battles you have fought

It’s quiet in my room

Alone, though I can’t hide

There’s wonder in my blood

And lonely in my spine

I beg and curse the gods

Who am I now, I ask??

Identity is gone

I’ve torn away the mask

There’s something with me here

I’m haunted by a ghost

What has it come to see?

What does it want the most?

Not knowing what I am

Or where that I belong

Can make life seem so short

And other times so long

But in the eyes of Space

My time is just a dot

I know of what I’m worth

It seems that I forgot

And I, like Christ, was born

With naked flesh revealed

A fragile waving flower

In harsh winds through my field

There’s nothing left to do

I’ve done all that I can

You’ve had your way with me

Upon your great command

My eyes now hold a fog

And sleep escapes my mind

In letting go of truth

Pure honesty I’ll find

One day I’ll live in death

More closely than today

Like Satan, I will fall

For clinging to my ways

I, then, will turn to light

Or maybe back to dark

The deepest part of me

Is barren, lost, and stark

My job in this is through

So take me now, I say!!!

And use me as you willed

Or put me in my grave

Series: Life Won't Wait