Tuned in
turned on
and dropped into the eyes of time past as the colors
X-ed in the red eyes out
The artist's eyes see all
on canvas colored with pieces of soul Damn that painting rock and rolls
as merry pranksters
slurped electric cool aid
and Kesey’s cuckoo was played and the art never dies
its all in the eyes
of the beholder.
tis but illusion
adaptive trick of nature
the brightest appear to
hold sway over the all;
nay, it is but a moment's reflection
gone the next sunset
up before time.
A moment's reflection in times eyes
is but a blur in tomorrow's vision
a revision
of the events colored brightly
in our mind's eye gone blind
as time blinks us away
before the next sunset
falls into a new day
as the acid test was failed
and passed into delusional daydreams
of future lawyers and drug dealers gone bad.
The window pane the best shit I ever had
broke like mirrors in my mind
and colors ran across the Blood Rock band
as the lightning crashed and they
proclaimed DOA
but I was alive in a mirrored sort of way.
unconscious visions
in an overgrown field -
unwieldy reeds, wild grass,
cannot keep out sight.
focus between blades.
dawn beckons.
fear subsides with
light.
(thank you all for your beautiful poetic replies!)
and the light blinds us to the truth
revealed between the blades we thought grass
but sharper in the light
words not colors to paint our fear
red
sunlight makes us feel
dead
run back to the darc
night
in the shadows we feel all
right