Sentient Speech

Today it occurs to me that the language of the Sentient Beings has to be poetry

Work in Progress:  "Chances of Drowning"

But I argue, "I'm not a poet."  

Well, I'm not a good one.

I don't know what to do.

"A Pigeon Post."

Just sit back

and listen

In progress: "A Hurricane Steed."

So I try it.

And I think, "Yes!  That's how they come to me!"

All I have to do is let the words come to me, just like the pictures.

"Secret Substitute Smell"

You're Still Talking

"City Jackal"

So I sit back.

Two words, that's all.

Just two words.

Over and over.

In Progress: "Fare Well"

Thank You

Thank You

Thank You

This is the Place

My painting from 2000/2001 is now hanging at Lost Moth Gallery in Egg Harbor

This is the place where the land and water meet.  This is the place where the waves crash against your feet.  This is the place where shore greets sea.  This is the place where you become me.  
This is the place of diamonds and pearls.  This is where boys become girls.  Anything is possible, every dream is true.  This is the place where I become you.
This is the place of forest and sky.  You’re ready to live when you’re ready to die.  Love in between if you’re ready to cry.
This is where all weapons go to rust.  The place where anger turns to trust.  This is where night becomes your friend.  This is where your dream began.
If ever you are cast out with your fears.  Look them squarely with thy soul and it will bring you here.  Do not try to fight the waves of change.  Hang on tightly for your life and do not be afraid.
For this is the place where flight is made with broken wings.  This is the place where the mute swan sings.  This is how the question when becomes the question why.  This is where me becomes i.