Sleepless again,
rummaging among relics
of the past;
evidence of love and devotion,
finally:
the note of betrayal
Sometime afterwards,
I’d decided
to carve myself a future;
with the scalpel a star, and
the only light:
the shining moon of our darkness
********BOOK SALE ENDS!******************
Feel free to reblog on WordPress, share the link, all with my accreditation.
I drew inspiration from a post I came across today. Sometimes there are things in life that fill up this void if not gap in communication that words just can't seem to fill or complete. If you get the time do check out the post
http://lesplaisirssimplesdelavie.wordpress.com/2012/04/29/you-leave-footprints/
Footprints
You leave your footprints,
Somewhere beside me,
Bold and brazen,
Sunk and cast for eternity,
easy now
the first caress
of chamomile and flannel -
proof the sun was marked to fade
before the crops were in
cedar burned
and there we go
drifting down the valley
smoke against the timbers
loves we should have known
before the chill
before the rash
of centipedes foretelling
the strength to come
assaulting our regrets
hold me close…
aunt bea said
honey
last night
the house shook
so hard
that
i would have sworn
that deacon jones' wife
had found out
about his affair
with mabel
and
had knocked him
halfway across town
but
come to find out
it was an asteroid
the size
of a minivan
that had
crashed through
our air defense system
which
nobody
saw coming…
Up from down and right from wrong...
sometimes the day can be too long....
Pushing pulling I can't breathe...
Choking tears back on my sleeve...
Dedicated through and through...
countenance is turning blue...
sometimes snacks are perilous....
Sleeping can be dangerous...
Deeper deeper farther still...
Like a tumble-down a hill...
Into a pit of blackened seed...
In which your fear begins to feed...
I am posting these paintings by way of a progress report really I guess.
They represent as much as anything else a process of learning. Not only about painting itself but also about how a painting looks when I transfer it from my iPad.
I have discovered I need to be aware of what it looks like after printing.
I remember hearing David Hockney talking about just this on a television programme.
Mi-aş vrea veşmântul rupt din cerul pur,
Ţesut din aur şi argint şi umbre,
Tivit cu soare, noapte şi azur,
Şi cu paing de raze şi penumbre,
Şi la picioare-aş vrea să ţi-l aştern,
Dar sunt sărac - şi nu am decât vise!
Să calci uşor când visele se cern,
Căci calci pe vise - şi pot fi ucise!
poezie de William Butler Yeats
cling yet to malice
when aurora lifts her brow
and so be undone
