Art Death Body

Art Death Body

A Poem by albee
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Musings of a life.

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Art Death Body

Every day since the day I was born I have opened my eyes to Light. Light, the grandest phenomenon and velocity of existence. Weightless nano sparks from our Star. Painting pointillist pictures of Life, Nature, and Beauty, in my orbs and in my mind, projecting upon the insides of my eyelids. Perceptions bouncing like a sublime pinball game, as the rainbow pigments synapse around my brain.

Coming of age in the chaparral along the grand peaceful sea, with the book of pop spirituality, aboriginal esoterica, myths, mysticism, the little smoke, fictional spirit stories of nature’s evolutionary potentials, hope, faith, and danger. I heard death has always been with me. Sitting on my left, like the devil sneering at the angel on my right, as Zarathustra proclaimed.

I was born here and I will die here, against my will. An aborted SIDS baby, raging against the dying of the light, in the primal renunciant soup, of infancy. Like a rose bud rising with tumescence, color, and sweet fruition of scented love, I have moved, leaped, and danced with bone, blood, and sinew, over the landscapes and seasons of this life.

© 2023 albee


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Why die against your will??? we all know that death will overtake all of us at some point, some early on and some with the creakiest bones...so we have to accept that fact.....and the it turns to how you live out the elderly years of one's life....and what the quality of one's life is like....I don't think death has always been with you... no one can predict that...except maybe in poetry!!!!
Warmly, B

Posted 2 Months Ago


albee

2 Months Ago

As hamlet said before his death duel:
“ if it be now! It’s not to come.
If it be .. read more
Betty Hermelee

2 Months Ago

I agree!!! all depends on quality of life!
Warmly, B
albee

2 Months Ago

Eat, drink, be merry my friend!
Love…

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1 Review
Added on December 16, 2023
Last Updated on December 16, 2023

Author

albee
albee

seattle, WA



About
I started out as a middle child, in the middle of that fat century, in the mid west of this obese country, when little league baseball caps were bunched up like peaked military hats. Finding myself on.. more..

Writing
A dying voice A dying voice

A Poem by albee