Love, an Artist

My insatiable desire to create breaths life within me.- Love an Artist

Leaving it behind

Written by:Luchetta(Cookee) Manus 2021

Control, alt, delete

Control, alt, delete 

It's alarming and both fascinating how our thoughts work. Sensory overload of traumatic  experiences is like the programming of your brain. Damaged are the files. They are all errored. 

Control is a sinister spirit. Its like a dog with a leash around his neck. The dog is smarter than his master who is holding the chain.  Control is a strong delusion of the the illusion of power. The heartbreaking shame in the allowance of control is apparent.  Manipulation made this all possible. Altering the reality of what is real and what isn't.  Altering depth and truth and perception.  Altering of emotion. It's the light at the end of the tunnel.  Is it the hope for better ? Is it that the calvary is coming?  Is it the train with its light on traveling at high speed to hit you head on? Is it the beginning birth? or death end?

Delete the pride and eliminate the hurt. Delete the toxicity which keeps the soul stagnant in growth and light.  Delete the chains binding the process of healthy thoughts and delete what blinds us from visualizing outside the box delete unrealistic expectations set by others who never once knew what it is like to be free. 

Freedom! doesn't that sound soothing?

Control, alt, delete 

Control, alt, delete

Apply Pressure

People want to see diamonds, yet despise the process which creates them. The admiration which is achieved from their illumination. , sparkle, and luster can be a deterrent of a strenuous process which bestows so much beauty.

It is easy adorn and dismiss loss when all you that is recognized is gain

All I remember is running Part 2

I always am aware of what I am running from, never what I run to. The confusion and confliction leads to a inner question. Is this growth or a benediction?

Poem Title: Humble in his Sacrifice Written by Luchetta(Cookee)Manus 2021

It must have taken fortitude to be the water for so many dehydrated flowers, and the nightmare of never the thirst being  quenched for yourself. 

They bloomed they stretched their petals in the sunlight with pride and a middle finger back at you in arrogance. 

 A canvas you helped paint, answering His call of maintenance to God's distressed creation.  Your saturation help flourish so many wild flowers who could never be tamed. 

Others enjoy the fruits of the labor. You were hoping to savor some of it. After all it is the benefit of reaping. Others admired bouquets they never watered.  And those who have forgotten, without you, their beauty and delight would have stayed dry and barren.

 Your spirit is like water. It settles yet it is still needed in different spaces and areas. Yet moving, however needing a home.

 Even lakes and oceans have a place to exist.

Cactus took advantage of yor nuturing selfishly hoarding you to themsleves.

 Depleting you of you dreams.

 The flowers choke the beauty you spread. You are moving and living and nothing in your path stays dead.

Title: Epiphany Written by Luchetta (Cookee) Manus 2021

An epiphany 

A sort of awakening 

When the truth hits the light just right and you see more clearly

Perception changes when the light rearranges.  

Everything becomes strange 

The shadows which once caused fear

No longer causes pain

It has lost its sting. 

I have overcome monsters and frightening things. -  Luchetta(Cookee) Manus

Poem title: Precipice Written by Luchetta (Cookee) Manus2021

I wonder when was my end and where did I begin. 

When 

it was my end, then that is where  I began. 

When I died, I lived.   -Luchetta (Cookee) Manus