Stories - FD Thornton

  I spent the early part of the morning working on some Painted Poetry me and Sandra Lynn had collaborated on over the weekend. Putting the finishing touches to the painted end of her words, while I’m still fiddling around with mine. It’s a habit that has extended through 4 marriages, 7 kids, and God knows how many grandkids. But it’s something we have done together, if for nothing else but our own entertainment and letting go of the secrets that we keep. For a while we had hit a bit of a dry spell, but recently we’ve got the old factory running again at full production.  Most artist usually keep to themselves, and I am no exception. Sandra is a busy little lady managing a warehouse and being the glue for her expansive family. Our blood runs deep, with a shared passion for music, words, and peace. While I wear the same old curmudgeon armor I have worn for years. But we both have our needs and our desires we have carried since childhood. So we except our fate and do our damne...

Pinterest   On yet another shitty morning, the rain slowly pours outside. The pills are scattered in their usual 4 4 3 pattern across the pad, as I stir my morning witches brew to swallow them all. Scattered across my mind is a Madonna-like figure in all her glory baring herself to me. In a seamless dance of attention unlike most women I’ve known. But now that the pills are gone and there’s nothing but the rain and the visions in my head of her lingering attention. But beyond a symphony of poetic words, my mind drifts to nothingness. While the rest of the world blows its horns and screams down the highway. I remain ignorant to the noise, while still hearing it. Offering my mind up to relentless silence that rings in my ears. For the sake of the words, my testament stands. Unholy in its voice, unloved on the face of things, most deeper than I care to be know. For I am more than just the sum of my parts: passion, water, light, earth, and air. So today in this moment of revelation...