Sitting here waiting while the clock face chases forward my memories bewildered and twisted, with unborn thoughts… Seeing things I’ve waited for all these years just go by as tear drops now, like a paper book each page is turned, as my life is spanning out –
Walking through the concrete jungle within this metropolis of home there is a foreboding question lingering before my eyes Is there a life within life that is living? Or is all this just a common metaphor?
Now I’m standing on the platform of the golden alter of sunrise where people wonder if man is a god or a king? Eyes closed but seeing all. Their tempers are flamed with the union that has been found. Sitting here waiting while the clock face chases backwards. I’m afraid!
Afraid of what I might find when I open them again.
Chasing dreams in the night Powerful thoughts with lots of fight Dreams of space and time Imagination wanders as I unwind Fairies and unicorns in my world Things I always dreamed of as a young girl Dreams keep you going
Here to perform for their living arrive, ‘more talents’ In their mind on world stage, reality chasing pavements The likes of these acts been here many times before “Please stop, look, listen! Never know what’s in store?” Lots of people
Solo, I am clock maker born September 22nd, a Virgo/Libra mix insane, look at my moving parts, apart yet together, holes in air, artistic perfection, mechanical misfits everywhere, life is a brass lever, a wordsmith, an artist at his craft.
Round and round, I turn around. People blink at me, I never unwound. The world revolves with my feeble sound. When people follow me, they are time-bound. The sun travels on my arms. The moon follows my norms. I am