![\"else1\"](\"http:\/\/murban_voices.weblog.mur.at\/murban_voices\/uploads\/2017\/01\/else1-300x169.jpg\")
<\/p>\na patterned old tile floor in a smokey bar
\nwhere once the alley cats
\nused to walk upon<\/p>\n
to sounds of songs we liked when young
\nwe fill the air with chinwag
\nand laughter<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
gossiping about the good old days
\nwhen promise lay ahead of us
\nthe promise of endless possibilities<\/p>\n
![\"else2\"](\"http:\/\/murban_voices.weblog.mur.at\/murban_voices\/uploads\/2017\/01\/else2-300x169.jpg\")
i see your love and affection for each other
\nin your eyes and smiles and way of talking
\nand i’m sitting there, more than grateful
\nfor the time and thoughts we share<\/p>\n
![\"20170107_233245\"](\"http:\/\/murban_voices.weblog.mur.at\/murban_voices\/uploads\/2017\/01\/20170107_233245-300x169.jpg\")
<\/p>\n
or the other day when we were sitting in another place, pondering
\non the meaning of togetherness, love and longing
\nintangible abstractions, like a painting
\nby Georgia O’Keefe<\/p>\n
![\"georgia2\"](\"http:\/\/murban_voices.weblog.mur.at\/murban_voices\/uploads\/2017\/01\/georgia2-300x533.jpg\")
<\/p>\n
and the moment we discern that love
\nlies in the present
\nno matter with whom
\nyou share it
\nand what
\nfor<\/p>\n
loneliness, the only constant in life
\ndreaded but needed
\nto inspire opus
\nlike incense<\/p>\n
the lonely artist finds her voice only
\nwithin the realm of madness
\nher true muse<\/p>\n
![\"20170108_000801\"](\"http:\/\/murban_voices.weblog.mur.at\/murban_voices\/uploads\/2017\/01\/20170108_000801-300x169.jpg\")
\na cold wind shaking my bones reminds my heart of its frozen state
\nready to build walls against the next inevitable injury
\nbut what would be an open heart
\nwithout bleeding?<\/p>\n
it is better to love, i’m infering though
\nto be in love with the impossible
\nthan not to love at all
\nas true love can only
\nbe accessed through
\nsevere pain<\/p>\n
resistance is futile
\ni’m pain, i’m love
\nthank you<\/p>\n
![\"prater2\"](\"http:\/\/murban_voices.weblog.mur.at\/murban_voices\/uploads\/2017\/01\/prater2-300x169.jpg\")
<\/p>\n
„Take your broken heart, make it into art.“ – R.I.P Carrie Fisher<\/strong><\/p>\n a patterned old tile floor in a smokey bar where once the alley cats used to walk upon to sounds of songs we liked when young we fill the air with chinwag and laughter gossiping about the good old days … Continue reading ![\"scale_lisjul\"](\"http:\/\/murban_voices.weblog.mur.at\/murban_voices\/uploads\/2017\/01\/scale_lisjul-300x169.jpg\")
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"