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April 23, 2012
All Poetry

Artist Love

In the middle of the night my heart bleeds
Blood pumping out continuously
Not from the pain
But the fear of wanting
To desire is to welcome anxiety
The heart bleeds in its chamber
Pouring its love onto the cold concrete floor
Sitting in his prison cell the musician plays for the village to hear
Loving/Caressing each note as if his life depended on it
His body is imprisoned while his art dances on the wind like feathers in a storm
All around him is cold and hard yet he can caress your face ever so gently from over a mile away
He cries as he plays
He dances while he plays
He smiles at the joy of creation
He bangs defiantly as he plays
Then he sits back down and plays in sorrow
The artist was released after a few decades in his cell
To this day you can sometimes find him playing in cold dark allys
He contuines to wander and seek out places that remind him of home

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