poArt Expressionism

Old Soul Connections

Old Soul Connections

Somber garden thumb
arm around cascading casket glows
tasting tongue tied lips – each cusp to rip
whaling, then wading upon nice nipple friendships.

Can I sit, lick, lunge, and elongate listening?
Her turned red lips tickle tits with lady loneliness,
miracle miles preach, replacing musical breath
for I am a lovely lakeside,
frozen oceans, melted starlight
rapid rhymed rivers rising
for all who hear the call
of old souls connecting our golden glow.

poArt Expressionism   June 19, 2011
by Scot Aaron

 

Can anyone hear the ancient call. Rip through DNA connected ancestors and rise up cores souls. Ride your inner eye and associate intelligence in psyche oceans of eternity. Bridge heart horn complexities - churned in barren bosoms brewing pendulum pages, teaching us about fragments of mysterious memories. The matured magic of sunrise nurses shades of helix inspiration. I am you and you are me as old souls breed renewed breathes and teach us about togetherness - unified oneness - the Great Spirit above all graves. Let us meet upon these trees of time. Greet art like welcomed raindrops flooding fertile sands, ready to blossom again when we reflect, tune in, and touch this watercolor flesh.

 


Blamed rain may flood from ancient souls, yet we can always reflect our own renewed growing pains - then say time is ripe for personal and global change.

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