/ˈɪnfənɪt/ Show Spelled[in-fuh-nit]
1.immeasurably great: an infinite capacity for forgiveness.
2.indefinitely or exceedingly great
3.unlimited etc.: the infinite nature of outer space.
4.boundless; endless: God’s infinite mercy.
Constant inspiration are the books on my shelf, perks of being a wallflower, most recently read. Constantly I am affected by my environment. 50% of the time, my environment is mostly me. Am I partially affecting myself?
This poem is very off the top of my head, which is a trend of mine…I suppose I don’t understand why I should create art unless I personally am going to feel pleasure through producing…and being able to give something to my fellow artists, something that will make them feel good.
Let’s take a closer look
I feel invisible
or was it infinite?
I stepped towards that doorway
which opens into a meat locker
cold, icy air pouring out
I checked on my life,
in the little pocket book dictionary
I kept it in the inside pocket near my heart.
Someone told me words were powerful
letters on paper could feed me
my own pen, black ink, could set me free
I suppose I believed them
I wanted to believe in a peaceful world
I guess it was the artist in me, the social deviant
I only ever hurt myself, I swear.
And now the war has come…and gone,
strange, war and all, I stay within my walls
sometimes I go out to bathe in the sun
I find the cracks in the light
where freedom of expression can be found
like a long, empty beach,
or sandy green mountains in the distance
waiting to be lost in them, dizzy from the spray of a sea breeze.
Oh to be young, they all say
Oh to be alive, and free and out of my head
Oh to live moments upon moments,
like in a slow motion or stop motion picture
at least to pretend to enjoy it all,
and fight for the laughter in life
fight for all the right music, and
pizzas made from the heart on teenage weekends
Nothing seems like a waste
yet I like it when I find ways
to waste time when nothing seems more important
I’ll draw a line across it all
the subjects we don’t want to get too dirty in
then I’ll plunge in, discovering in the corner of my eye
a path skewing aside from the stream of life
I suppose I had a gut feeling that day
I reached out and was pulled this separate way
I felt relieved, grateful that I could now look upon myself in an undisturbed mirror.