Tag Archives: christophercuttsgallery

To Move;

Unspeakable truths—
I’m drowning,
Searching for a mediation between
Beauty and the grotesque
But they are absent,
Unknown;
Broken.
Are these abject apologies
That ring in my ears…
Belonging to those who struggle?
It is impossible
To follow these narratives;
One relies on destruction,
To create meaning…
The Drowned;

To Struggle;

Capture my soul,
Twisted in thoughts of a present singularity…
What is right and what is wrong—
I am told these are universal truths,
Like bird songs in winter;
To me, they are
Lost in translation.
Truths or
Is it my comfort,
Weighted down by all that is known?
For the cruel and insidious,
These spectacles of chaos…
Resonating loudly,
Is to captivate;
The Saved—

To Live;

It is negation;
That is a sovereign to my being.
It exists in the crevices:
Of reality.
Reverberations of hope—
Escaping my ego which is
Dead.
Lies
That stops the heart;
Venerated spectres—
The holy and benevolent that transition
To the depths of the psyche;
Like a cacophony of crumbling realities…
A distraction wasted on
The human and nature;