Sleeping Havoc

July 2, 2012
By Kara Richardson SILVER, Cartersville, Georgia
Kara Richardson SILVER, Cartersville, Georgia
5 articles 0 photos 0 comments

This insomnia is delight.
As the colored walls close in on my mind,
and the lights dim to their motherly nest
I spark within my dimensions.

The flowers bloom and the sunset’s perpetual.
The beasts climb mountains,
and ocean waves crash their crests upon humanity.

“Let it be, let it be.”
The Beatles play my melodic vibe.
I splash paint upon light,
I replace a pick with fragile, discordant fingers.
My words begin to rhyme.

My creation is in awful spirit-
I nurture with one-hundred years to live.
I’m searching for the inanimate truth,
as I took from the world- I wish to give.

I pose with wondrous mind to eyes,
defining correctness becomes absurd.
My ideas wake to a reality.
I am and always will be,
an artist.


The author's comments:
When I think about art, I think of full on expression. With writing, I can get out of my mind anything I'm feeling at the time onto paper, much easier then if I was saying it outloud. This is just a small portion of my train of thought during a long night.

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