Through My Eyes (prose poetry)

[selahangel1]

I live and breathe bohemia in a desolate wasteland, commercialized and industrialized by the greed of man. If only one could see through my eyes. They burn with a passion so great that they blaze to the point of near menacing introspection. If only you would remove your rosy rims to see the little honesty that is left. To see the pain and joy and fear and love that surrounds every corner of the globe. Why should I yearn to beautify what is not and tear down the walls of what is good, denaturing to what I see fit. That is only what society tells me I should do to please, to honor, to praise our beloved system. I say, strive to obtain the truth and share it for what it is without shame. To do so successfully is to do so through art. A medium which was never meant to beautify, but to feel and understand. To fully understand the creator’s perception of honesty. To speak so loud that something without true sound could be heard from worlds away. To hear, touch, taste, smell and see all that is true in a desolate wasteland where I, we live and breathe bohemia.

[Cee-Jay Aurinko]

Wow! Enjoyed reading your poem. It's quite something. Very intriguing.

[DATo]

Amen !

"Beauty is truth, truth beauty," – that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know. - John Keats

[ShannonLove]

So true and so difficult to do. Lovely poem!