Saturday, September 19, 2009

Living Ink Pt 3 - The Hunger - Sunday Scribblings #180, #181 (Tattoo, Hungry)

The Gathering finds itself held within the grasp of an emerging horror - one in which they are each intimately involved.

Their feelings of self doubt, realization and guilt builds into a violent frenzy that involves self mutilation, gnawing and slashing of the once cherished pieces of body art. The spilling of blood and ink onto the park grounds, walk and defunct storefront combines with cries and screams of self induced torment to blur the lines of reality.

The red and brown ink - clearly a distribution of the blood of the victims that are buried in the basement of the old building.

The frenzied violence and incessant buzz suddenly stops. A cool wipe across the finished work pans the view back out to me in an artists chair.

A beautifully rendered image from my dreams upon my arm - the red and brown so vivid and alive.

The insanity of my pain induced vision still lurking beneath the surface - I head out the door into the Miami sun to show off my self expression.

As the faithful turned in heavy silence
a hunger built within their darkened souls
stretched across expanse of time and space
the ink begins to burn and itch as if to throw

each into a panic to quench a troubled thirst
the red and brown ink deep within their skin
urges the breathing mass to feed - but first
sink their teeth into the burning sense of sin

ink and blood run from mouth and outstretched arms
blood and ink - the same - yet different sources
scent of rotting flesh - beneath the parlor charms
sounds of harvest pain flood like drowning horses

as the burning stops - thoughts racing back to me
intense - the red - the brown - a vision - or a dream

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Bar Haiku - 3WW CLV (Hanky, Thick, Drift)

Wine - drunk - mind adrift
the air thick with sound and blur
slowly hanky falls

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Living Ink Pt 2 - The Gathering - Sunday Scribblings #180 (Tattoo)

Like a pilgrimage to a sacred spot - the customers of the long closed Living Ink begin to flock to the urban block within the once vibrant Miami setting. The faithful aren't entirely sure why they have made the trek to the closed shop.

Just to stand outside the shop where each had endured pain, excitement and elation over their self expression come to life - so to speak.

Soon the crowd must spill into the park across the street in order to accommodate the numbers of inked up visitors.

The absence of the spotlight has abled the growth of the feelings of unease, doubt and fear. In a mass, sudden awareness the entire crowd falls silent and turns toward the darkened corner shop across the street.

An acknowledgment of the violence that is somehow related to the success and fame of the small shop.

Lurking still - just below the surface - a glow of the horror seems to emanate from the very foundation.

The lauded parlor - closed so long ago
crowds build outside - steaming dusty glasses
former patrons, artists - a legend grows
old musty charm - though expanding malaise

Each devotee shares growing disbelief
colors capture feelings approaching dread
dichromatic thoughts of awe, desperate need
a swirl of unease tormenting their heads

Living Ink - pilgrimage - The Gathering
the park - draws - professional and homeless
embracing, supporting - searching, scattering
pieces displayed, hidden - ashamed, senseless

All at once the crowd turns - sudden silence
realization - seems living ink is violence

Saturday, September 12, 2009

Living Ink - Sunday Scribblings #180 (Tattoo)

This - the first in a series of three - introduces the Living Ink Tattoo Parlor. Known for its exquisite design and especially its vibrant red and brown colors - customers come from all over the country to have their visions rendered by the famous artists.

Something insidious dwells just below the surface - but the celebrity spotlight outshines the nagging feeling of unease - for now...

Exquisite the colors, dimension, feel
lost in a moment that stretches what's real
forms that dance upon the sleeve
stories lost like dissipating dreams

The red and brown - so real - alive
ink in jars - in bags - in time
swept beneath the shop of art and pain
artist's palette - life's ink from vein

Flesh discarded - ink drained and mixed
too much red - older vintage - fixed
upstairs in guns - the ink transforms
breathing canvas into dancing forms

Living ink on colored limbs, back and chest
stalking the night's pulse - color obsessed

Wednesday, September 09, 2009

Time Out of Mind - 3WW CLIV (Engage, Disarm Mayhem)

Eyes engage the thoughts within her mind
she stands - stares - mind out of time
struggles to breathe as the mayhem within
wreaks a havoc - yet revealed on her skin

Disarmed by the weight, energy - the feel
someone cried softly as the floor began to reel
struck down in fire with more life left to give
lingering gently as a rainstorm's scent - she lives

Twisted, battered - torn - finally left to die
stumbles to her feet attempting at last to fly
swallowing cool, thin air - falling - sailing - alive
her mind soaring - at last feeling - her life out of time.

Saturday, September 05, 2009

PKI - Sunday Scribblings #179 (Key)

symmetric, shared and complex
crossed, twisted and indexed
strength, advanced and subtle
stored, protected and troubled

revealing, initimate and true
exchanging, public and shrewd
imported, aliased and trusted
revoked, verified and busted

compromised, exposed and stolen
authenticated, engineered and golden
cracked, violated and ruined
scored, rated and truant

pubic, private and essential
sniffed, spoofed and elemental

Friday, September 04, 2009

Space Enhanced Tone - 3WW CLIII (Glare, Luster, Threat)

like the calm before a gathering storm
the threat of space surrounds the tone
and the singing luster of a fingered form
brings forth emotion like waves gone rogue

stepping down to the glaring, whispered love
setup for slaughter on an ambush trail
the crescendo building from far above
the seas are boiling - tearing the sail

smell of surrender - surrounding the play
strangling vision in a passionate rift
set against portraits of sensible fray
the ship is off course - silent, adrift

now bring back the journey to a feeling of home
with elegant phrasing of space enhanced tone