An Artist, A Man, A

Your Head Is A Living Forest Full Of Songbirds.

A Connotation Of Infinity Sharpens The Temporal Splendor Of This Night When Souls Which Have Forgot Frivolity In Lowliness,noting The Fatal Flight Of Worlds Whereto This Earth’s A Hurled Dream Down Eager Avenues Of Lifelessness Consider For How Much Themselves Shall Gleam, In The Poised Radiance Of Perpetualness. When What’s In Velvet Beyond Doomed Thought Is Like A Woman Amorous To Be Known; And Man,whose Here Is Alway Worse Than Naught, Feels The Tremendous Yonder For His Own— On Such A Night The Sea Through Her Blind Miles Of Crumbling Silence Seriously Smiles

A Bouquet Of Clumsy Words: You Know That Place Between Sleep And Awake Where You're Still Dreaming But It's Slowly Slipping? I Wish We Could Feel Like That More Often. I Also Wish I Could Click My Fingers Three Times And Be Transported To Anywhere I Like. I Wish That People Didn't Always Say 'just Wondering' When You Both Know There Was A Real Reason Behind Them Asking. And I Wish I Could Get Lost In The Stars. Listen, There's A Hell Of A Good Universe Next Door, Let's Go.

Hopes Dance Best On Bald Men's Hair

A Man Who Had Fallen Among Thieves Lay By The Roadside On His Back Dressed In Fifteenthrate Ideas Wearing A Round Jeer For A Hat