Blank Verse, Digital drawing, free verse, poetry

Back to front

Complete me a cycle of the love of an object that which cannot be held.

Thus a past of life that never gets past me and never confronts what is in front of me.

Silly memories that pest me in my current thoughts that I need to give a huge rock,

and swat them and i will enjoy see those thoughts roll onto that rock back to the

front of my feet again and again.



®artsydhude 97-18


Digital drawing, free verse, poetry


Hold me the apocalypse in tow,

where my eyes see an utopia of my verses,

the a dystopian life of all these devices

yet an unseen eye of invasion of

all of misconceptions,

all of assumptions,

none of the truth that hides all of my pride.



®artsydhude 97-18


Digital drawing, free verse, pain and suffering, poetry

I must . . .

. . accept all of it.

. . fail the failures.

. . leave all of the love.

So i can end my miserable life in tow.

So i can see a new end in sight of emotional trauma.

And in the end;

It shall begin a new day.

It does begin a new era of my anger beneath all of it.

It can start the fire of all focused opportunities;

Life can offer me.





Digital drawing, free verse, Life, meloncholia, pain and suffering, poetry, reflective, relationships

Deflect to Reflect.

A feather was given to me by a crow.

It has rainbow colors.

The crow looked at me sideways.

I pulled yellow,

I saw myself at 80’s.

I pulled blue,

I saw myself from a toddler into my 8th year.


I saw none but I felt all of the fear I felt

through all my years.


All of the opportunity missed and experiences.


Felt all the range of rage,

to all my loneliness of all my sorrows.


My immediate and relatives

the ones who loved me,

those who can say but not even dare show.

On a whim of a breeze, I feel the last feather

Shown a color of what people are,

shown the true test of a person’s love and affection.


why even bother to give when one can not even leave

his ego behind, 

and ends what a past can hold.



®artsydhude 7-18


Digital drawing, free verse, poetry


I will wait for a funday,

when no one can tell me what I can say and do.

After it all,

All of those who had their hearts filled of it all.

All of those who care not of yesterday’s pain.

All of those does not mind all the worry of tomorrow.

It is a funday after all.



®artsydhude 7-18