Today I witnessed the world gyrate
the musing and dancing of folks
downtrodden by despair
illustrates an unheard scene of beauty
the children are drowning and no one
seems to care
though same children resurface after
submerged
to play violins and break dance and
read poetry at public local art venues
made for their kind of tribe
they spin and create, make revolutions of
music
sent from the unconscious
what ancient creations
what profound resolutions

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I miss bathwater
the submersion.
I dip back
my occipital lobe
the creamy surface layer
wraps around my forehead
then my cheek, then my lips, then my nose
then I’m gone
the awareness of my face
washes over the awareness of my body, which becomes
the awareness of my
breath, which brings to life the
awareness of my breath, which…

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“All Museums are haunted by the ghosts of the powerful and the wealthy and on the whole we visit them to walk with the ghosts” — John Berger

A Zoom through the Mus. (A visit to Columbus Museum of Art)

A Visit of shorten proportions
Ran through the museum fortified
with hot pack, cold packs
Vitamins A to Zinc,

we arrived when electricity finally
powered off. No ones fault, but
fault lines.

Ran through and viewed fast,
on the outside it was a walked-in
path. Positioned sculptures. We
are guest pulled-in by positioned
guides. Hurry us along, pulled us
as if we’re stone. Pulled us this way
or that way-we were the itinerary on display.

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Brandon Thompson

Brandon Thompson

I’m a self proclaimed poet and writer on philosophy, innocence, and culture. I enjoy nature and walking through parks during my free time.