I did this several mornings ago:
Inside alabastar
is a dream
a dream of warm moist movement
along the veining
inside this cold marble
is a wish to be warm
a wish for blood vigor
crying to be awoken
from the sleep of stone
my cold cold hopes
frozen from the density of
tons of saline weight
my alabaster arms
pray for a chisel
beg for the awl
cry out to carve granite legs
from the block of stone
unlock the life that should be
can you come and kiss me warm?
should you turn this stone to soul?
come help remake this muted me
come and take this statued self
if only...
if only...
if only will could make me whole
~~~~~~~~~~~~
OK, then here is the same thing ... only I tried to tweak it as I didn't like the almost victim tone of the first free-form thing, but as you can see, tweaking it made it worse.
shaking my head, why can't I ever improve anything ... why does it always seem to me to always be better straight from the tap? (I guess that would be a spinal tap?)
;-)
Inside alabaster is a dream
a dream of warm moist movement
along the veining
inside this cold marble
is a wish to be warm
a wish for blood vigor
Carrera crying to be awoken
from the sleep of stone
my cold cold hopes
frozen from the density of
tons of saline weight
my alabaster arms
pray for a chisel
beg for the awl
my hope of a beating heart
cries out to carve granite legs
from this metamorphic rock.
I search for a cypher
to unlock the life that should be.
Where is the carver I need?
Where is a lover to plead to?
Come help remake this muted me.
Can you come and kiss me warm?
I search for a sculptor
to carve away the parts that aren't.
Where is my Buonarroti?
Where is the hero to stand up
and take this statued self?
But should he turn this stone to soul?
If only ...
love could do no harm.
If only will could make me whole.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
but wait ....
I already own the key.
I am my own Buonarroti.
My Hero should be me.
So now I search for a sculptor
to teach me how to cleave
away the parts that aren't.
Ahh, but ... maybe
maybe ...
The teacher?
The teacher
also needs
to be me.
Inside Alabaster
Inside alabaster is a dream
a dream of warm moist movement
along the veining
inside this cold marble
is a wish to be warm
a wish for blood vigor
Carrera crying to be awoken
from the sleep of stone
my cold cold hopes
frozen from the density of
tons of saline weight
my alabaster arms
pray for the chisel
beg for an awl
my hope of a beating heart
cries out to carve granite legs
from this metamorphic rock.
I search for a cypher
to unlock the life that should be.
Where is the carver I need?
Where is a lover to plead to?
Come help remake this muted me.
Can you come and kiss me warm?
I search for a sculptor
to carve away the parts that aren't.
Where is my Buonarroti?
Where is the hero to stand up
and take this statued self?
But should he turn this stone to soul?
If only ...
love could do no harm.
If only will could make me whole.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
but wait ....
I already own the key.
I am my own Buonarroti.
My Hero should be me.
So now I search for a sculptor
to teach me how to cleave
away the parts that aren't.
Ahh, but ... maybe
maybe ...
The teacher?
The teacher
also needs
to be
me.
Sent from my iPhone
Inside alabastar
is a dream
a dream of warm moist movement
along the veining
inside this cold marble
is a wish to be warm
a wish for blood vigor
crying to be awoken
from the sleep of stone
my cold cold hopes
frozen from the density of
tons of saline weight
my alabaster arms
pray for a chisel
beg for the awl
cry out to carve granite legs
from the block of stone
unlock the life that should be
can you come and kiss me warm?
should you turn this stone to soul?
come help remake this muted me
come and take this statued self
if only...
if only...
if only will could make me whole
~~~~~~~~~~~~
OK, then here is the same thing ... only I tried to tweak it as I didn't like the almost victim tone of the first free-form thing, but as you can see, tweaking it made it worse.
shaking my head, why can't I ever improve anything ... why does it always seem to me to always be better straight from the tap? (I guess that would be a spinal tap?)
;-)
Inside alabaster is a dream
a dream of warm moist movement
along the veining
inside this cold marble
is a wish to be warm
a wish for blood vigor
Carrera crying to be awoken
from the sleep of stone
my cold cold hopes
frozen from the density of
tons of saline weight
my alabaster arms
pray for a chisel
beg for the awl
my hope of a beating heart
cries out to carve granite legs
from this metamorphic rock.
I search for a cypher
to unlock the life that should be.
Where is the carver I need?
Where is a lover to plead to?
Come help remake this muted me.
Can you come and kiss me warm?
I search for a sculptor
to carve away the parts that aren't.
Where is my Buonarroti?
Where is the hero to stand up
and take this statued self?
But should he turn this stone to soul?
If only ...
love could do no harm.
If only will could make me whole.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
but wait ....
I already own the key.
I am my own Buonarroti.
My Hero should be me.
So now I search for a sculptor
to teach me how to cleave
away the parts that aren't.
Ahh, but ... maybe
maybe ...
The teacher?
The teacher
also needs
to be me.
Inside Alabaster
Inside alabaster is a dream
a dream of warm moist movement
along the veining
inside this cold marble
is a wish to be warm
a wish for blood vigor
Carrera crying to be awoken
from the sleep of stone
my cold cold hopes
frozen from the density of
tons of saline weight
my alabaster arms
pray for the chisel
beg for an awl
my hope of a beating heart
cries out to carve granite legs
from this metamorphic rock.
I search for a cypher
to unlock the life that should be.
Where is the carver I need?
Where is a lover to plead to?
Come help remake this muted me.
Can you come and kiss me warm?
I search for a sculptor
to carve away the parts that aren't.
Where is my Buonarroti?
Where is the hero to stand up
and take this statued self?
But should he turn this stone to soul?
If only ...
love could do no harm.
If only will could make me whole.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
but wait ....
I already own the key.
I am my own Buonarroti.
My Hero should be me.
So now I search for a sculptor
to teach me how to cleave
away the parts that aren't.
Ahh, but ... maybe
maybe ...
The teacher?
The teacher
also needs
to be
me.
Sent from my iPhone
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