Because writers write, painters paint and lovers love until the bitter end.

With such gentle touch does this flower open for a taste…
Soft silken petals wet from the morning mist….
Like waking from a warm dream
Embraced and cared for held safe and sound against a beating heat.
Such a feeling comes only from those who truly love us like the morning rain loves the sun or the leaves love the breeze. Oh to be touched deep within the heart without the fear of distrust or jealously.
Such lessons are the hardest after the mirror of innocence is broken. I search deep in my heart and soul to find the strength and love required to quiet these demon so I may stay to watch your flower grow… And bathe in its radiance and warmth forevermore.
B. 2016
I will not go quietly into the night,I will put up one hell of a fight.”
⚓️🎨⚓️

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Updated things and stuff

Yes again I have actually sat down at a real computer and started to updated my Gallery sites. For those looking to see a larger collection of work please follow the link to Gallery 2 the Sold and Not for sale section. Gallery 1 for sale stuff has been updated as well and will also be recievig more TLC in the hours to follow.

Gallery 2

http://wp.me/P2ASdI-2

Gallery 1

http://wp.me/P2ASdI-nt

I have PT today so I’m usure of how much actual painting I will be able to get done this afternoon, should anything cool happen you can bet I’ll be here to share it with all.

Much Love and light

Benjamin

2013

Random morning Muse 10.29.13

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in such many morning as this
does one find such lovers bliss
beneath the stars and written above
or in the hearts of a single white dove.
does one not yearn for the taste of sweet
paint on the hands and words dripping
from the tongue of one so sweet
and of yet to meet on that cold
autumn street.

which way would you go
if you were truly part water.
In a concentric circle flow?

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Dark words for birds and butterflies.

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Such lucid dreams for a madman
calls.
Sleepless knights and wandering halls.
Does the day really care for your name?
Or has it left you just the same
Another poet, pauper or prince
within this space our words do mince
of liquid love and darkest nights
ballyhoo and midnight fights.
What calls these cannons ringing blare
days of yore without a care
Charles, Andy, Jean and I doesnt
matter all will die.
What razors edge will cut the poets tongue
and bind the painters wrists as the
gilded non common corpus judge
from chairs to high to truly see
what passion lives in the depths of
me

20130822-062332.jpgBenjamin

2013

AM~musings of a child a painter and a madman

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Does your day begin with coffee or tea?
When you look through your eyes what do you sea?
A glorious day ripe with possible quest.?
Or do tasks and papers litter your desk?
Find a globe and let it spin
Get a tack and stick it in
Pack your bags and let the adventure begin.
Fear not the drip drum of the humdrum
Set sail upon the sea of life before the dust blows your bones clean
And they write your name in a learned book.
I’ve seen the clocks tick talking to one another
And they say let the adventure begin.

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I hope the day treats you well on this fine Saturday. May you find the peace of mind to be worry free, the brave of heart to start your next adventure and the wisdom to see them both.

Much love.
Benjamin
2013.