m parkes inappropriate love
from my favorite artist Michael Parkes

After belaboring sowing and reaping,

and reminding that Karma is a bitch,

I laud blessed foolishness.

There are things in our living

that can make tricksters of us.

Absolute fools.

The high card of them all

is love.

Praise affection

familial and friendly.

For me, nothing compares to

Eros —

Who sets one cockeyed silly bombastic

earthmoving and roving,

melt-earth-and-rocks foolish.

I do experience this

addicting affliction in my lifetime.

It is fully irrational,

falling to pieces to give all my pieces away.

Mister Toad’s wild ride careens

between crashing chaos and

pummeling wind

euphoria

mounting the silken enchanted carpet.

This love takes body, soul, goods and

sanity.

Foreshadowing of the searing slicing

pain

of Eros’ love’s end

haunts, bites and blunts.

It leaves me with

gratitude

that I live authentically

recklessly

from my foolish smitten heart.

I lose all. I find all.

No one can take this away —

body and soul are knit.

I am the fool clown for love.

I live on.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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