Me ...when I'm not at me desk at home drawing, in the field running, or at school working. |
For my original sculpture artwork visit my website
Guerrilla RainI’m dancing between raindrops, skipping over pools of disturbed water, running. Dripping in freedom as my legs carry me far far away. Past the weeping willow on 6th, moping in the rain, I run, brushing against welcoming leaves, plucking beads of water off elderly bark. In soggy shoes, slipping over flooded sidewalks and dew sprinkled grass, drinking in a falling sky, soaking in the crisp spring morning, feeling blessed—perpetually running.Guerrilla Rain by Hyakki-Hikou
I’m being fiercely hugged. Through layers of clothing, under clammy skin, the rain seeps through. And with each dropping embrace I run from, I’m received by another. Run up Pine, turn on Eighth street, run back, Seventh street, past my faded pink stucco house to Wadsworth. The grand white church, contemplating in the storm, with its modern stained glass nestled in fancy lancet windows, I run on, holding my breath so not to catch scrupulosity. Past the church and its uncomfortable commitments, I shall not be bothered, for I am
Her Deep SleepLiving in slow motion rewind,Her Deep Sleep by Hyakki-Hikou
She inhales memories
To forget what is already forgotten-
Collapsed lungs drunk on emptiness
Humanity doesn’t wait for her to catch her breath.
Suffocating on unrealized dreams,
Words floating through a transparent head,
She endures her diagnosed migraine.
Heavy lids cover lightless eyes,
Weary from a distorted lens
And accumulated mysteries,
Slowly she fathoms sleep
Deeper than the ocean’s depth
And darker than the void that is her echoing skull.
Amnesia flowing through her veins,
Under paper skin,
And obscurity consuming a fragile heart
Her mind skips a beat.
Fighting narcoleptic tendencies
She grew to love war
A mind falling through the cracks
All that’s left is an invisible string on her finger
She couldn't tell you what it meant if she tried.