Everything everything
A picture in your mind
The senses the brushes beautifully wind
The senses the paints are beautifully entwined
His, hers and yours each different from mine
The quality of materials matters at first
Are the instruments at this point at their best or at their worst?
Distortion on the line?
Something in the way?
Or is each as open and clear as the day?
We think we’re in it
Completely immersed
But really think about the mad way it all works
The sun gives the light, bounces off into your retina
Sends the information to your cauliflower computer
Gives the best representation it can
But the brain’s not an exact mirror understand
It takes into hand past experience and emotion
What’s relevant for you will be given more devotion
This man right here may no longer be in Kansas
The strokes apply alternative styles upon his canvas
Maybe it dances while yours inanimate
Bright and fluorescent while another colourless
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder
What’s young to me to you may look much older
The obvious warmth to another much colder
A grimace to a king to a peasant is a smoulder
Hold up
Our picture composed of so much more than sight
Olfactory pleasure or displeasure gives another light
A stinky room looks gloomy
A perfume plume adds beauty
Maybe not enough to turn a beast into a cutie
But sufficiently enough to turn hot water into fruit tea
And music to my ears is suitably edited
Adds to the composition in your head like I said it is
Manipulates the tempo, the brightness, filter and frame
A tune between two sets of ears never sound the same
The ticking of a clock in times of stress may be a sedative
Repetitive tocks to ears of mine always a negative
And if a kind more meditative, artwork changes still
Not from raw ingredients but from the artist’s skill
And still so many factors to change the inside view
When information not apparent interpretation askew
This room looks so incredible, the furniture, windows and pottery
Enthusiasm fades as you learn of a past atrocity
We’d all gaze at Bill Cosby as a parent, leader, friend
Now it’s so impossible not to see him as a bell-end
So feelings, sights, smells and sounds all contribute to your perception
Multiple other factors and not one being an exception
Are you comfy in your skin, your clothes or temperature you’re in?
Wide awake or tired, have you had a little drink?
Everything comes together in the quarters of your cortex
A screen of perspex separates you from the rest
A screen with no reflection fooling you your perception is correct
This is real life nothing more nothing less
Well guess what Sherlock that picture’s interpretation
No more correct than a movie adaptation
You think we share the same world, fact of matter you’d be right
In the confines of your cranium is where you live your life
So many observations and motions only you will find
Cos everything everything
Is just a picture in your mind

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