Hungry Groundhog

Furry little creature,
Stocky and round with curious eyes .
Sitting comfortably on his treasure,
Greedily grabbing at weeds,
Those fresh, green delights.

People pass by and stare
But the groundhog doesn’t care.
He just keeps on eating,
Relishing in this new abundance
That comes with spring.

Tiny little hands aid the hungry mouth
In grabbing as many weeds as possible, as quickly as he can
To feed this never ending hunger that has presided over winter.

If groundhogs could talk, he would be saying..

OM NOM NOM!!

Springtime

Sunlight gleams through the trees
Exploding into strong rays
I can barely open my eyes to look
But I know that it’s perfect

I lower my eyes back to the ground,
Little green sprouts push through the hard earth
My arms and face feel the warmth pouring over me
The lowering sun kissing my skin with its glow

This is what life is,
This is what life should be.
I feel alive again,
I never want to leave.

Crayon Rebirth

Grapefruit

Up, Up

E.S.F.

Now, now, kids.
Lets not judge each other
By what we do
Or don't do,
But what we could potentially do.

We could all do great things,
Great meaning anything.
You'll be a lowly doctor,
You'll be reigned as a supreme sandwich artist!
But under the sane society,
It's all the same.
Success and competition
Give way to human fulfillment.

The American dream
is no dream I aspire to
Racing to be rich and have more
you're no hero of mine

Your capitalist dreams
will bend their forked tongues backwards
And bite you in the ass.

Momentary Relapse

I’ve been thinking about something for weeks
Now why does it all the sudden seem different?
Are my perceptions of reality really that off?
Or does this newly shone light just transform its shape

I never really know how well people know me,
I always assume they don’t at all,
But the things they don’t know don’t really matter,
Not to them at least.
They’ll find out in time.

Personality is best poured out in gradual increments
Not all at once
You continue to get to know someone throughout their life
But I’m always surprised to realize that people know me much better than I thought.
Maybe I am just an open book, whose pages try to hide but are visible for all to see.

Why did I even think I knew you that well?

I feel regret,
For nothing I’ve done.
For what you’ve done,
Yes, I suppose.
But I don’t want you to feel it too.
I don’t want you to ever feel it
So I’ll do the feeling for you
You just keep on living.

That’s the problem with feelings,
And time,
Things just don’t stop here and start there
They are with us for life
So I don’t really know who is referring to what, and when
But does it really matter?
I refer to things that never even happened, that never will happen
I’m just so fucking confusing that you shouldn’t take anything seriously
From me, ever.
But I’m also so sincere and simple,
Please believe me, what I say is true.

I understand and feel all emotion, all the time
I can be everything at once,
Appreciate everything for what it is worth (Worth not meaning anything, really, at all)
And truly deeply feel it.
It’s still part of me, but a very small part
Yet felt with such intensity that it could really be all of me,
It very well could, and it is for the moment
But let’s not kid ourselves here
Isn’t life just one long scene after another?

Who really knows what is acting and what is real,
And if there’s even a difference.
I don’t really care anymore,
It feels the same to me.

Detachment

Of course I’m not mad
I’m never mad
What is anger, anyway?
Just seems like it’s always an excuse for something else
Peoples own rage blown over in self satisfaction.
But I’m not happy about it, either
I’m certainly not pleased
My indifference is so extreme
It scares me
This action aroused no warmth,
I’m staring at my wall like a cracked blank slate
Devoid of hope or anything at all

Onion & Potato

Intestine

Watercolour pencil crayons and india ink on water colour paper