A Mosaic of My Mind By Jasen Sousa
A Mosaic of My Mind
If you were to sit down
and paint a picture of your mind,
what are some of the images
you would find?
This is a painting,
an illustration of my imagination,
an ink outline,
a mosaic of my mind.
A lake
where my silhouette sparkles.
Sun shines on it, a mirage of diamonds.
I stand on the top of a mountain, a perfect sunset in the background
after decades of climbing.
A cemetery
where I stand and hold a shovel in my hand,
digging up caskets and opening lids.
Eyes open and skin regenerates
to an earlier date, and everyone goes back
to the time when they were kids.
People fly free like birds,
able to take to the skies.
Freedom to soar to any height,
not just when they close their eyes.
A garden with flowers
that glows with florescent faces
and they talk to me
when I bend down and tie my laces.
Cities of glass
that reflect the world’s beauty.
No such thing as a stranger,
Fame very closely knew me.
Roads with bricks
made out of gold,
and carved into them
are all of the stories I have told.
Pigeons are made out of porcelain,
and squirrels round around with skin
made out of silk. They bathe in lakes
which are filled with milk.
Pain no longer remains,
and neither does guilt.
No part of my mind is paved
with poverty, there is no future
of filth.
There is no need to sleep,
no need for sex, drugs, or food.
In this mind,
there is no reason to try to get in a good mood.
Trees talk, wind blows wisdom.
Everyone who speaks, teaches, everyone who listens, learns.
If you were to sit down
and paint a picture of your mind,
what are some of the images
you would find?
This is a painting,
an illustration of my imagination,
an ink outline,
a mosaic of my mind.
Taken From
A Mosaic of My Mind By Jasen Sousa (Written at age 24)
©
If you were to sit down
and paint a picture of your mind,
what are some of the images
you would find?
This is a painting,
an illustration of my imagination,
an ink outline,
a mosaic of my mind.
A lake
where my silhouette sparkles.
Sun shines on it, a mirage of diamonds.
I stand on the top of a mountain, a perfect sunset in the background
after decades of climbing.
A cemetery
where I stand and hold a shovel in my hand,
digging up caskets and opening lids.
Eyes open and skin regenerates
to an earlier date, and everyone goes back
to the time when they were kids.
People fly free like birds,
able to take to the skies.
Freedom to soar to any height,
not just when they close their eyes.
A garden with flowers
that glows with florescent faces
and they talk to me
when I bend down and tie my laces.
Cities of glass
that reflect the world’s beauty.
No such thing as a stranger,
Fame very closely knew me.
Roads with bricks
made out of gold,
and carved into them
are all of the stories I have told.
Pigeons are made out of porcelain,
and squirrels round around with skin
made out of silk. They bathe in lakes
which are filled with milk.
Pain no longer remains,
and neither does guilt.
No part of my mind is paved
with poverty, there is no future
of filth.
There is no need to sleep,
no need for sex, drugs, or food.
In this mind,
there is no reason to try to get in a good mood.
Trees talk, wind blows wisdom.
Everyone who speaks, teaches, everyone who listens, learns.
If you were to sit down
and paint a picture of your mind,
what are some of the images
you would find?
This is a painting,
an illustration of my imagination,
an ink outline,
a mosaic of my mind.
Taken From
A Mosaic of My Mind By Jasen Sousa (Written at age 24)
©