an artist without inspiration isn't like a person without food
although sometimes they are, those are the ones that give up living
an artist without inspiration lives on, they just give up art
rather it's writing or painting or taking pictures or whatever
an inspiring sun beam, an inspiring scene of love
can go from inspiring to heartbreaking
inspiration can change quickly and suddenly
or slowly but surely until the clouds of dark overwhelm
a sunset, a couple in love, a cat or dog playing in the yard
the inspiration from it all is syphoned away
outside forces, a broken heart or loss of love,
the lack of love, the loneliness of a cold night, separation anxiety,
when even your dreams are beginning to become clouded with dark
an artist without inspiration is no artist at all
as for me, im no artist, for my only art is my love
well, i haven't written anything in a while
inspiration is dwindling away from me
of course im no writer, im no artist, my only art is my love
i just write out of sadness or out of elation
i just write to speak to no one and everyone
i write to have an ear to hear me
even if it's no ear at all
the days are dragging on, the first bite of winter yesterday
continuing on today with a low temp of 29 Fahrenheit tonight
i feel ok, just the usual waves of the ocean
3 and a half weeks away from reaching 40 years old
a pinnacle indeed, but i've never celebrated my birthdays much
perhaps friends will toss up a drink for me
a card in the mail would be nice, but of course nary a card will come
i actually do miss the days of getting letters or cards in the mail
my mother will probably throw a family get together for it
which is nice, a meal of my choosing
well, i used to take writing more seriously
but then i started noticing that i sounded more and more like those
influenced my writing and i began to think that i was
turning into a carbon copy of those that wrote before me
so i guess it works well that ive never really been much of a reader
i'd rather listen to a book, unless of course it's something educational
then i dont mind the reading
take me away, to the deserts of india where the cobra gypsies live
take me away to fields of green meadows
take me away to where my home really exists
my true home...eternally
