MyLife!

[small-town--r-deactivated202605]

There will come a day that'll be my last day.

Achievements, success, failure, sin, rejection, acceptance, good deeds, wrong doings, the ups and downs; and everything between will wither away.

My body will fade in the dust of the earth.

My heart will beat one last beat.

My lungs will fill with oxygen for the last time.

All that'll be left is a memory of me.

The flowers I've planted will remain alive, kind of like a piece of me.

Dieing is a part of living.

Some people believe in an after life, some believe in Heaven.

And some believe in reincarnation.

Will those believes come to pass?

Be handed down as a traditional way of believing.

Maybe the ones who believe in the after life, will have one.

Maybe the ones who believe in Heaven, will go to Heaven.

So is that to say we are what we believe?

Could it be possible to pass over to reincarnation?

I don't not know what the end will be nor do I know how it'll feel.

With that being said,

I'll cherish everyday I'm given.

And live life with a desire to be happy.

A desire to count my blessings,

A desire to have faith,

A desire to love and be loved.

R.A.

[stretched2far]

03/23/2023

Musings of a 79 Year Old….

The sun comes up, shines it’s light on planet earth for another day….and each day brings my life closer to that inevitable time, the last time I gaze upon the sun and it’s warm embrace of planet earth….

[stretched2far]

03/23/2023

Musings of a 79 Year Old….

The sun comes up, shines it’s light on planet earth for another day….and each day brings my life closer to that inevitable time, the last time I gaze upon the sun and it’s warm embrace of planet earth….

[drmorbius12]

Clouds

I’m having an existential crisis. My childhood home is gone. Not even the old address is there. My older brother turned 80yo. My creative mind is a blank. Just drank the last beer and I don’t feel like going out to buy more. The ghosts are playing hard and fast with my perception. There’s a deep pool of regret the color of time I’m desperately trying to keep from falling into.

And yet, it is Friday night, after all. And St. Patrick’s Day too! The wearin’ o’ the green. The weather is turning on Spring. I should rejoice. I should tear down the walls of ennui. Take a hot shower and change my underwear. Look in the mirror and have a good talk with myself.

Unfortunately, I broke the mirror last year and never replaced it. I just move sideways a little and pick up my reflection in one of the shards still hanging in the frame. The razor sharp edge seems inviting somehow.

There’s a big hole in my soul. I try to fill it with food but that just adds to my already enormous beer belly. Night has moved in, in more ways than one. Perhaps the Moon will show its face. It always looks like it’s shocked about something. Maybe it sees me and is afraid of catching my disease. Maybe that’s why it won’t come out from behind the clouds.

[drmorbius12]

I scream awakening images wrought from light beams of memory

Returned to trap life’s breath within a coffin-like embrace carved by embalmed hands

My eyes blinded to the means of escape forever caught like smoke

In your perpetual ion storms electron showers drumming a rhythm of photon explosions

Replete with neutrino ghosts woven of maximum nothingness echoing our multiverse crosstalk

Maybe I’ll see you on the other side of the big bang– we could start all over again

[stretched2far]

“Just let me sit here, so that I may enjoy the silence….and aloneness….if only for a little while….”

Stretch

Summer 2022

[drmorbius12]

Mind

In the deep velvet dark of night I felt you holding my hand so hard I thought you would crush it Rising with a start I realized there was no one there with me If it wasn’t you then who had been holding my hand so tight? The scrapping sound from the attic gave me a clue so loud I felt cold chills all over my body moving like crushed ice under skin I could see my own breath in the moonlit room The scrapping abruptly stopped followed by a silence so loud I thought my ears would burst asunder In the hissing quiet I could just make out a growling whisper under the sound of someone weeping and keening like a lost child wandering coming closer to me now I felt something grab my hand again this time dragging me out of bed onto the floor screaming I wrestled with whatever it was on top of me like a wild animal With a bellowing roar all motion froze like some terrible freeze frame warp A foul smelling wisp of cloud rose from where I lay slowly moving toward the full length mirror seeping into a crack like it was being sucked in by a silent vacuum I woke up as the morning sun cast warm shadows in the receding corners of my mind

[drmorbius12]

Dust of desire settles on the floor cotton-like before the night is transformed thick with hands and fingers that flutter like wings down to earth insistent on touching the smoothness of your skin against the fullness of the Moon eclipsed by your dark red eyes locked in orbit turning the same face toward me forever

[stretched2far]

Outstanding!

[drmorbius12]

Secret Cavern, 2021, DrMorbius12

36″ x 48″

Oils, plaster, gesso, cardboard, on wood panel

[stretched2far]

This is really good!

[drmorbius12]

Corridors

Untold meanderings down the alleyways of the mind.  Streets wet with inner reflection.  The garbage truck of forgetfulness didn’t make it by last week, and things are getting ripe.  Billions and billions of nanoparticles of plastic fantastic inundate the optic nerves, as a homeless thought lies half drugged under cardboard concepts, reeking of unfulfilled dreams.

Across the dim corridor of nerve signals, a most wanted poster hangs askew, showing your face as though every wrinkle, every crevasse, every pothole, is gaping wide with festering rage and banality.  The cold, sharp crack of a hobnailed idea suddenly flashes, crystalizing each new thought, becoming taut with expectation, reeking of computer-gamed, ectoplasmic, matrix-jiggling insanity.

Finally, a new dawn, unlike any other, breaks across the brow, bringing ecstasy blended with sorrow, revelation with disappointment.  Momma always said never think alone at night, lest the mind transform into something unimaginable.  A metamorphosis sweeping away all previous versions before it like a tsunami of boiling self-awareness, stripping naked all preconceptions, leaving behind a thick residue of yet another rebirth.

[drmorbius12]

Corridors

Untold meanderings down the alleyways of the mind.  Streets wet with inner reflection.  The garbage truck of forgetfulness didn’t make it by last week, and things are getting ripe.  Billions and billions of nanoparticles of plastic fantastic inundate the optic nerves, as a homeless thought lies half drugged under cardboard concepts, reeking of unfulfilled dreams.

Across the dim corridor of nerve signals, a most wanted poster hangs askew, showing your face as though every wrinkle, every crevasse, every pothole, is gaping wide with festering rage and banality.  The cold, sharp crack of a hobnailed idea suddenly flashes, crystalizing each new thought, becoming taut with expectation, reeking of computer-gamed, ectoplasmic, matrix-jiggling insanity.

Finally, a new dawn, unlike any other, breaks across the brow, bringing ecstasy blended with sorrow, revelation with disappointment.  Momma always said never think alone at night, lest the mind transform into something unimaginable.  A metamorphosis sweeping away all previous versions before it like a tsunami of boiling self-awareness, stripping naked all preconceptions, leaving behind a thick residue of yet another rebirth.

[stretched2far]

I am....across the vastness of time and space....I drift along on beams of light from a thousand stars....an insignificant speck on the wallpaper of history....

[stretched2far]

I am....across the vastness of time and space....I drift along on beams of light from a thousand stars....an insignificant speck on the wallpaper of history....

[drmorbius12]

I dream of a chair, old and leathery, hidden away in the Ruin of Days, set in the midst of a tower built of fever-crusted granite blocks, cut with the teeth of time, layered on fear.  A sliver of light emerges, passing through to shine down on my path.  A misted stairway leading up and over the wall where it sits waiting.

I’ve been here before, watching, hearing, the gray world turning right to left, in a deft twirl, shoulders tight, on a balance between now and forever.  I wipe away the dust of aeons and settle into its cold embrace.  Are those scales or claws that ride upon the arms and legs?  My arms and legs?

Lifted up and away once more, tears streaming in the cold wind, a shiver of fate and lightening make for an insane trip into the farthest reaches of my imagination, images coming thick and fast.  No turning back now, and even if I could, there’s no guarantee I will ever find my way back.

[stretched2far]

Excellent!

[stretched2far]

Drifting

Drifting away into space and time....

leaving my earthly body behind.....

How wonderful would it be....

To just be free....

If only for a cosmic moment....

I would only need one component....

And that would be....

The ability....

To travel inter-dimensionally....

SER/2020

[drmorbius12]

Stormy, 2020, DrMorbius12

Acrylic, collage, on wood panel

48" x 48"

[stretched2far]

Hot, wet, and thunder in the distance....memorial day in south Florida....