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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 Suffocating Dog

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And then when you turn towards me
My inner light started to burn into hate
As I fled backwards
Trying to distance further away from your inquisition

Getting by and trying to acquire enlightenment
Failing to decide
Cowering
Cringing hand in hand with the holy ghost

How did my memories mutate?
The ones that are no longer vivid
A complete loss of singular intent
All reconstituted into a collected consciousness

In complete loss of what was done
Confused within swarms of failure
Within this collection of innate action
Powerful feelings that are too chaotic to describe

Now reconfigured as a residue of magnificence
That you cannot see
Or understand
Or remember

I just wanted to be better than you






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