Sunday, May 9, 2010

karen no man's land

I have no hearth, no steady hand
My name is karen no man’s land
I have no place to call my own
Just A house that is built on arid loam
I walk the world, intoxicated
All alone, and isolated
Looking for a place to run
But finding that there isn’t one
Not even sand will accommodate
No place to rest my
Weary pate

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About Me

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greetings! i have managed to incorporate my eternal woodstock nation spirit with the high tech 21st century world. i am an artist/writer, who dabbles in rhyme, and, sometimes, reason. my passions are my husband, who is truly the wind that ruffles my sails, animals rights, yoga...waking up in the morning. i find inspiration in too many things to list, and far too many more to remember. sketching, watercolor painting,poetry and photography are my ways of expressing joy and gratitude. from living with a chronic illness, i have learned the beauty of each day, and treat each as another sun salutation, and another chance.