O’ Linda with the brightest eyes, stands alone, black dress that silhouette those years that passed, your children gone, you look around, there’s something’s wrong. It’s all changed, the mirror doesn’t reflect that girl who twirls and sways to candle light and barefoot soul, those songs upon the record, play away your yesterdays and inside a dream you dance alone with shadows on the wall.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Ancient marbled mountains recede in winter's icy flow
Blue sapphire envelopes the spot where I often stand
Eye of sorcerers, glare and wander in dark angry spaces
Bird’s o prey glides the thermals high above this shadow land
My silhouette is long; it taints the mists that swirl inside the water's fall
I alone, within myself, can hear the quiet mountain’s call
Against this cold I cup my hand into a fist, as if to hold a tiny rock
And carefully I take it all and calmly put it deep within my pocket
I turn myself against the cold; I turn my thoughts against the snow
I warm my heart inside the sun that spots the dyeing forest floor
Brown and wasted, crisp it crackles as I ramble down its mighty slope
My soul once touched the face of God, for here is where he gave me hope
But now I’m lost in cityscape, and humanity covers like greying moss
I try to breathe the petrol air, and within its stress my life is lost.
To escape would be my only hope; sanctuary’s found in nature's charm
Sadly though, to return to what I love the most will only do my lover harm
So I walk amongst my kind, drifting through its alleys, networking, searching
And in those lost a solace times my soul travels to that place I once called friend.
Blue sapphire envelopes the spot where I often stand
Eye of sorcerers, glare and wander in dark angry spaces
Bird’s o prey glides the thermals high above this shadow land
My silhouette is long; it taints the mists that swirl inside the water's fall
I alone, within myself, can hear the quiet mountain’s call
Against this cold I cup my hand into a fist, as if to hold a tiny rock
And carefully I take it all and calmly put it deep within my pocket
I turn myself against the cold; I turn my thoughts against the snow
I warm my heart inside the sun that spots the dyeing forest floor
Brown and wasted, crisp it crackles as I ramble down its mighty slope
My soul once touched the face of God, for here is where he gave me hope
But now I’m lost in cityscape, and humanity covers like greying moss
I try to breathe the petrol air, and within its stress my life is lost.
To escape would be my only hope; sanctuary’s found in nature's charm
Sadly though, to return to what I love the most will only do my lover harm
So I walk amongst my kind, drifting through its alleys, networking, searching
And in those lost a solace times my soul travels to that place I once called friend.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
there are phases
in my life,
things of interest,
things to share with my father
as time passes
on a continuous stream
of hopefuls dreams
of broken sceams
things
to hold on to
interests
often times
make no sense,
seem to clutter
that futile feeling
that all is for not,
that when it's over it goes with you
hangs over my head
Like a dark cloud
questioning the reasons
For what is the use
I capture it in pictures
to revisit this journey
and this again I question
what quest do I take with me
in the ending of my days
In my reach for heaven
what do I take from here
What was this light
That once felt love?
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
It's not a struggle, these demons I wrestle.
For me, feel not sorry, for it's just my way.
My obsession is control. I mean you no harm,
don't be afraid, please, don't be alarmed
For you scare me more than you realize.
To walk amongst the living is the greatest of fears
for I wish to hide in my head, live in my lies
find comfortable depressions, solice in the dark
I don't wish to come out, to do so is painful
This fear of my failures is a strain on my heart
but to stand alone, by myself and look in your eyes
I peak around walls and stumble outside
Monday, January 24, 2011
Oft times we sit, quiet, trying to stop time's passing. Our eyes close to treasure lost moments as if that one deep breath will make it all clear. We attempt to still our hearts .... our minds.... those random thoughts that collide, out of control, seem only to smash against some wall. We, with all our might, seek the stillness of the air, yet the questions still rise and the sun still sets and the answers never come.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
![]() |
| "Self - mutilation" 18x14 Acrylic on britol by Terrence L Cope |
A line
Drawn
Staring back
Taunts me
Drawn
Staring back
Taunts me
As if laughing
It owns me,
It sits on piece of white paper
It owns me,
It sits on piece of white paper
White fucking paper ,
Bright
White
Paper
White
Paper
Just a line
Dark, black, charcoal
Burnt wood
A beginning,
Stopped
As if to reflect my life
It Stands alone
On this stupid page
Like some "imagined" importance
By itself,
Going nowhere
A block ........
Dark, black, charcoal
Burnt wood
A beginning,
Stopped
As if to reflect my life
It Stands alone
On this stupid page
Like some "imagined" importance
By itself,
Going nowhere
A block ........
A LINE
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Life is the program, you are the programer
Life is the program, you are the programer
Life is the program, you are the programer
Life is the program, you are the programer
Life is the program, you are the programer
Life is the program, you are the programer
Life is the program, you are the programer
Life is the program, you are the programer
Write the program .....................corrupted
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
![]() |
| "Flying Tiger" 18x24 Pencil on Paper by TL Cope. Click for larger image |
Cold morning air, motors spit fire through the velvet smoke, propellers turn
Painted warrior, a chariot awaits your rise, she's been up for hours now
Wood splintered, canvas torn roundel, you silohette against the sun
As bullet rips the flesh, blood flows in fire and oil stains the glass
Black smoke, rich and burnt, lifeless, dances to the ground
Its dark spiral pirouettes in the winds, anguish cries carry then fade
Scented letters tied in ribbon under silken scarved tattered skies
It was simple then, it did not end with this life, this war,
Painted warrior, a chariot awaits your rise, she's been up for hours now
Wood splintered, canvas torn roundel, you silohette against the sun
As bullet rips the flesh, blood flows in fire and oil stains the glass
Black smoke, rich and burnt, lifeless, dances to the ground
Its dark spiral pirouettes in the winds, anguish cries carry then fade
Scented letters tied in ribbon under silken scarved tattered skies
It was simple then, it did not end with this life, this war,
Today, I am not so sure.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Standing in awe of what lay before,
Staring thru cloudless skies and the infinite,
I, So small once measured?
What size am I once pass this horizon?
Do I exist at the edge of the universe?
What size am I once pass this horizon?
Do I exist at the edge of the universe?
Thrown across the wind like a storm,
Measured like dust on a breeze,
Tattered like the flag abandoned,
Lost like the rain in the sea.
Mine eyes have seen the poetry,
Of a moment that ne’er returned,
Wonder upon wonders in a swatch,
To be played out countless times,
In distant lands, stars and galaxies,
Witnessed and not by someone or thing,
Through many thoughts and dreams,
Trapped alone, in flesh and bone
My mind sets out to play,
Trapped alone, in flesh and bone
My mind sets out to play,
Growing lost and insignificant,
In the calling of this day.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Bathed in white light, I could barely trace the outline
There you stood, pristine, motionless and eternal
I walk up to you with that look, happy, confused, scared
A million scenerios, like the stars in the sky, flash before me
The white halo of the streetlamp, the cold grey of wet concrete
The hollow sounds of the city at night
I take your hand, to perceive a smile, some sign of approval.....
Saturday, January 1, 2011
"Girl in white shirt" 2010 16x20 Acrylic on canvas by Terrence L Cope
I have a favorite spot
It's where I put my favorite box
And inside this favorite box
Are all my favorite things
A favorite stub from long ago
Of my favorite picture show
A ticket to a baseball game
Marble, coin, some metal chain
Matchbook cover, a sketch I drew
This photo from a day with you
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