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The Territory of the Little People - Storm Clouds Approaching

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  The Territory of the Little People - Storm Clouds Approaching The atmosphere over Pine Creek churns before it breaks. The sky stops being a distant ceiling, and tears open into a fevered, gestural vortex, churning in fierce ribbons of cadmium gold, raw ember, and bruised ink. Here, in the suffocating stillness of the build-up, the heat plays violent tricks on my inner eye. As the squall gathers, the twisting ironwoods and fractured ridges don't feel empty; they crawl with the uncanny belief of the Little People, low-slung, watchful phantoms spun from wire, red dust, and dry static, waiting out the road's fragility. Every jagged branch and swirling filament of cloud becomes a face, an arm, a sinister presence breathing inside the rising storm, drawing the traveller deeper into the delirium of the interior. Be Creative and Innovative with Knowledge John Bennett - AKA JJFBbennett , is an independent artist. You can view and subscribe to my work via  Blogger , YouTube , Fl...
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Celeste Demon Cage

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Sacrificed to celebrate loss
Adoration as the judgement falls
All flaws are exposed
As small and insignificant histories

Where generosity leads demise
Forced, captured and impounded
The ritual once initiated has to be completed
To endure the next cycle
As a lesson learned
To strive from failure
Through strategy of small loss

In time
And in the power of time
Once possessed as property
Reborn and yet returned
You must wait until approved
Until the deception is honoured
Before you can act
before you are human again
To regain your reputation
In adoration of yourself



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