You have entered the realm of a writer.

Welcome to A Writer's Landscape!

You have entered the realm of my mind where words play with the fabric of our existence. This is the map of my imagination: the very foundations of inspiration, musing, and thought splayed for your wandering eyes. Dive deep into the tides of these forces and experience my reality, my fantasy, my world; and if you should be so inclined, share your words with this land.

Peace and Love!

J Hart F

Thursday, February 3, 2011

The Hardest

This corner, home - lost, beckons dark light into the pool of ever-after-now: shrieking lullabies, whispering of loathing, hugging torment, crying support... it mounts the impossible heaps.

     --Selfish! Candle lit daemon, insufferable pleasure!--

Window breaks; then gusts banter with the ornate chandelier swinging in perfect parabolas of wanton amour. Tears burn with soot lined breezes shot like white elephants pawing at tangential strings connected to the shattered beats of the always-past-here. Truths are virile acid puncturing the umbrella, reigning in stead of widowed nuns; however like a long time waiting under off-white sheets drenched in cold allusions to spring days in heat. The room illuminates the dawn, broken after the final chord soaked in exhausted reverie.

     --I am resistant: Untouched, Spoken, Believing...--

A lake forms from eyes barricading angles into forests lush with hidden, twisting - comfort, riddles on Roads of errands meeting that undeniable secret of diverging tracks toward commitment or abortion. The chosen denies the built future vision-constant-present; but we fly and color the reaches of the wood extending over the delicate wounds of our hearts. Do we cry songs, embrace in honesty, whisper goodbyes, and love these last times?

     --Love is not for reason, but I in Me shall know--

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