Heaviness

Though these beams,

Stacked high above our heads,

Persist—argue firmly—

Demand to weigh too much

For these calloused hands

Arms double size

To defy

(7/13/11)

Euphoria Now

A morning light, brightening the space,

Revealing dust molecules

Moving round and about to sporadic destinies

Steaming tea, wisps of morning spirit

To catch our breath

Open and unobstructed views

Of vast landscapes

Shielding us from the world

Clear sight of our daydreams

Depicted on every surface and reflection

Of rosy cheeks and wide eyes

Beneath natural, disarrayed hair

From last night's hands and pillows

Time irrelevant

To our euphoria now 

Winter Love Growing, New Leaves Falling

Understanding is not fertilization.
Acceptance and warm embraces water forgotten seeds.
Buds and blooms are ephemeral.
Your close contact warms my brain.
Sunshine steals through night shadows.
Furious winds twist these branches.
Yet, these roots are deep.
Leaves fall and flowers blossom
In dead winters and curious seasons.
Some trees exist for centuries.
Magic forces mark rings round their organs.

Sometimes My Bones Creak

"Hi, my name is Gertrude."

I am a nineteen-year-old
Trapped in the body of an 80 year old woman.
I think her name is probably Gertrude.
My mind is racing with thoughts anew,
Keeping her young at heart
But her bones creak like wooden stairs in a rickety old house.
Her shaky teeth grimace to stand
From average periods of sitting
On a sagging old bum.
I experience for the first time as she reminisces
Of the "good old days."
Though once these experiences reach my senses
They are stifled by those dulled by time and excessive use.
Excessive youth still pours onto pages.
The memoirs of old Gertrude
Revealed with a new spin on ancient spools.
She leans heavily on the wooden arm rests
As she rocks back and forth.
I scream to run and jump and ride,
I beg to dance and wave,
I command to sit and stand repeatedly just to show I can
And to spin and spin until those eyes behind inches-thick glasses cross
And we thud onto soft grass.
I wince as the knees shake.
The short fall is more painful than expected
Despite deadened nerves.
Encouraging endlessly to move again, even slowly,
Though I grow impatient.
The thoughts of old Gertrude speak louder
Than her thinly-worn voice will ever again allow
As weakened lungs and heart are overworked
Stiff fingers still dance across stiff keys
Even after all these years.
And in this moment I am released from the old body,
Given new life on brilliant white paper
Fresh with shiny black ink.
In my excitement I smudge the pages' words and fragmented sentences.

Heatwave Oasis

Late 2011 - My internship with Dorian Sky.
An acrylic painting series.

Over 140 hours created this experience.

Find more photographs here
Dorian Sky's work can be found here