Imaginary Friends

spheres of skinlessness

flickering orbs

plumes

of breath

ruach

pneuma

clouds of fire

a wild world of pareidolia 

surfaces

hands

swimming with electricity

piecing it together

madness

and there he lives

the short man with angry brown hair

bouncing off pain voices

peeing in the toybox

dead in the fridge

we kill the unseen with our arrogant not knowing

trinity

me

reality

imagination

oh essential formlessness

I name you

with my name

photo(6)

click to see more :  art http://www.artofkundalini.com🙂

 

10 thoughts on “Imaginary Friends”

  1. I used to think that summer days were the only thing to truly look forward to that nature provides in an expansive manner, but I’ve since realized that beauty, as ugly as we can be, comes from us too, through the pores and out the eyes, a radiation that’s undeniable and worth waiting for – just like those summer days. You exude it, Poet. And there he lives… so do we all.

    Liked by 1 person

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