photo by BB

Fields

fields will be plowed before some of my thoughts form.
the sky may shatter at every crack of dawn.
within me is a landscape, falling, falling hard.
its images trace themselves where things familiar and foreign are at once.
my land is torn, like the paper these strokes caress.
field shapen by isolation and groundlessness,
shape shift my rock of a mind,
its never proven more difficult than now,
as I shear my scales, and crackle at dawn.
tie pain through action and suffering into parts,
if clouds thunder, my mind is storming, eyes running rivers.
i weep only to be eclipsed by true happiness for you
and complete rejection of my own.
formed perhaps by my granite of jealousy,
my strength is wearing by each storm.
my heart is shedding and falling apart.
i am losing myself,
i am losing you and I am trying to find land.
this is the landscape I call confusion.

-Beautiful words written by my friend Scott Magic. He wrote this 5 years ago in Europe and recently came across it again. I convinced him to allow me to share it with you. Happy Easter.

What About Yesterday

photos by BB

living is easy with eyes closed, misunderstanding all you see.

~john lennon