Shoppers & Players Painting

Suppose you begin to hear the voice of certain people Before you actually meet them? You are a frump! You already know you are a frump! You can feel see and hear everybody react, and respond to you, as you do frump! You are a frump You are frumpish! In fact you have become somewhat falsely, or truly secure in yourself by being able to live with, and be seen as a frump! You feel see and hear more than they do Those who believe they have the free will to attack you Because, you did not stay as slim as when they knew you, and without vanity, possible when they wanted you! But, you are just doing you! Suppose, you come into a gift Are bestowed the gift of being able to hear the soul, the sound, the presence, the mood, of people long before you meet them? For years, I heard a chorus of female voices Saying: Ah's.....Ha's in chorus In a epiphany kind of way? It is inexpiable It is incessant It is unavoidable It is very powerful It is a sound that badgers you, and bothers you for sometime It is not tangible You become a carrier of a sound Unaware some other being That you can neither see, or explain Remains without Unable to explain the pattern of why things are It is like a radar! Tired Rough looking Into the supermarket Just finished working Think it was a Thursday night Some years ago now Doing the usual rounds No longer thinking, or bothered by the sound and then...... I reach for the usual obligatory fruit There are bunch of women milling around the front isle counters Typical of me to walk right on in I heard them do it Say it Sound like it Sing it Talk it Make the sound of it The chorus That is The crescendo of ah's Oh May Word! Oh My Gosh! Just let me get to the nosh, and get out! They are absolute strangers to me But, there is again That presence That thing when you do not know Is doing something to get you to know Plastic like shiny black hair It was like 80' - 90's Style of fancy dress Thick layers of make up Like anyone who had been fully conscious during those times, could forget She picks up a bunch of bananas Wiggles her head It would appear Trying to aim, a glance of a glare at me Me, never know she I do not know her I do not know who she is But, it has a style of come find you Peas in a pod where there know peas Portfolio's of properties But, bananas to forehead Taking a shot at Miss Do Frump Easy Nobody Like I said Cult Occult There is no suppose They had been led into the dangerous practice of prey Round tables Circles are made People have tryst around But, where, and who the fare, of affairs is among Is yet to be found That is why A point at a frump Becomes the joke the fantasist loves! There in there Is a tale of a supposed fun None of it really happened While it did appear, and look like such a fashion But Who would believe you if you said an Angel was alive Present relaying patterns, and dangers As well as giving love, and guidance Whilst agreeing it might be a medical reason Why you can see, and hear them, or just hear them, or just see them, or just touch them, or just feel them, Or just smell. Or just realise you are part, and parcel, and are one of them! Fairy tales, of the real that is unreal! Only time tells Why the neck area becomes tightened? Once given a body Everything in accordance with it must be checked Before assuming there is life after death! Nonetheless, I no longer heard such a chorus After the night we never met But, I was present in the little village supermarket Which became like an intense meeting house For a cult to practice their energy, bets!

Painting:Acrylic on Paper

Original:One-of-a-kind Artwork

Size:4.6 W x 3.3 H x 0 D in

Delivery Time:Typically 5-7 business days for domestic shipments, 10-14 business days for international shipments.