oh, my. god.


i see you

as you see me

we be together forever like every time

i’m who you appear to be


Right Just.


High flying
I’m out of this
Jewel welded to forehead
Fooled only for a moment into believing other eyes
Otherwise, the first to perceive is me
We see differently
Conceived energy, being drummed
Until sound reverberates and shakes
The ground
I walk on cloud nine thousand; island
Dressing steps in a belief, a leaf or two will complete the mood
To be in tune to a salad
I’m having experiences to keep anew
A nerd
Inert to nerve for a few seconds
Then strengthened the second I forget
Get words
Get wind of effort
Less given
Disturbed by nothing, because I’m hovering
Divine plan
Something in the way I feel
I am

– G. Arthur ©2015

Go Down the Rabbit Hole: A Writer’s Manifesto


Writing for Digital Media

1. You are the work. The work is you: both an articulation of the self and a possibility for self-reflection. Be honest in creation: allow yourself to bleed into the work, but also allow it to work on you. Your work can show you things: illuminate and clarify your own thoughts, motivations, actions. If you do it right, you will find the work changing you, too.

2. Thinking is process. Laying on the floor. Sitting on park benches. Getting lost on purpose. These are all working. Learn the difference between mindless distraction and mindful wandering.

3. Go down the rabbit hole. Sometimes the work isn’t about what you think it is. Allow yourself to get lost down alleyways, to follow a train of thought around a corner. Don’t feel you need to reign yourself in. Too much focus squeezes all the possibility for revelation out of the work.

4. Fear…

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Is This How You Wish to Spend Your Life?


Or is it daylight?
Evolution is in new movement
Ask for the strength
You’ve leapt before
Why slink?
Are you slumped?
Don’t slouch
What is up?
No doubts
We soar outside the sores that sort of put us in disproportionate rapports
With ourselves
Distort the realm of reality
A chore to clean up yours
From source
Ease up
Anything impure, release
See but the possibility of a seashore
Be more
Quantum physics is specific in the written with giving scientific legitimacy to the feeling of frequency
Intimately intricate
Detailing a skip in beat
In 8 we realize at a horizontal a lot goes into infinity
No forcing what Eye know
Simply for the reason I don’t
Resistance is an addiction and I’m kicking the habit
Grabbing carrots
Fiscally increasing my carriage
Visibly arid in having a lifestyle that’s married to 9-5
In the feat of being a chariot for an aggregate of garrisons fighting for underdogs
Uh! I mean champions
Why can we win, because I said so
A stream of consciousness is as unconscious as blood flow that I roll off the tip of my tongue that can kick in a gun at the speed of a whirlwind
I don’t put periods at the end of the sentences for a reason, it’ll make the world end

– G. Arthur ©2015

Came and gone.


No place to be
See everywhere
Soul’s station
Walking away
From day-to-day
Today is tomorrow
On borrowed time
I’m not
I’ve got all of it, in the world
To air
And depth
Neither exist
Only this
And so dust, just another realm
Overwhelmed, we’re aren’t
There’s art
Fade to
Rules exchanged can change
Tools to a plane
Remove the ruse that explains
To wane
We wax
Remain as facts
Relaxed into a state that act; impact
Truth is a lane, we have
Let’s go
We never held to anything
What is there to let go?
Only the mind said so
Locate both space and time
Can you?
Then you enter and exit an old venue
Don’t relate
Just take
Taste once
Taste from the waves and wade
Good day.

– G. Arthur ©2015



Admitting it hurts
And this is the work
Shifting in an indescribable swirl
Extracting psychobabble
Battling pearl
Haven’t the gall to go after the girl
Since after all, it wouldn’t matter
She reverses and curses me
How it feels
Unique to dual beats
Rhythm of a walk down memory lane
Then at a page, burning each letter
Getting insane only to gain my sanity
After leaps and bounds
I seem to drown the antidote in handy streaks
Strokes are different
Intimate to this ephemeral tussle
Touch to ends
Ours and suffering
Only to go into morning and adorn the notion it was nothing…

G. Arthur ©2014