Fluffy bunnies bouncing bouncing
a little dear is pouncing pouncing...

Fresh green meadows
clear blue skies-
daisies dance
with butterflies!

a picnic blanket
with lots to eat :)
a big fat tree
to stop the heat-

wine wine wine
for us to dine,
oh my stars
im on cloud 9!

Trying to capture a moment, but the moments ever changing.

I paint in oils
-oils outlive my mortality
-oils extend my message
oils prolong my life after death.
It's a gamble because anything could wrong when I'm not there to care for it.

7am:
So I start by sitting in front of a huge blank canvas.

7:05am:
So I start by sitting with a mirror in my hand.

7:30am
The canvas is intimidating.

9am
My mind tries to capture the final product
- composition,
style,
toned down?
bright colours?
thick smears of paint?
hyper realistic?
or make it an abstraction from reality?

11am
I half-fill a jar with turpentine to clean my brushes.
I fill a small jar there with linseed oil to thin the paint.

11:05am
On my palette
-a small squish of cobalt blue
-proceed on thinning it.

11.10am
Lift brush,
dab it into the paint...
almost reach the canvas.

11:15am
I study my face to see where I'll start.

3:15pm

4 hours pass.
The sun has moved.
The shadows are softer
and the shadows longer.

Accurate painting is not about talent as much as observational skills-
thats why you can stop for years but if you have learnt the art of seeing you will be able to paint a more realistic picture than when you quit the previous time.

7pm
All my contemplation sees the sunset
without a stroke being applied.

I flick a switch and a new light appears-
harsher with darker shadows-
it doesnt allow the paints show their true colours
but at least it is consistent.
I don't like what I see in this light.

Days have passed me in front of this mountain-
when I started it was sheer will that got me here-
not because I want to
but because I know I can paint better than most a
nd some will think it's worth something-
might  make a bit of extra cash on the side.

When I was younger I pumped out canvasses faster than toilet paper
but now I dont know Wonder Boy anymore-
too much distance between now and then.

Out of sheer impatience I decide to put a wash over it. I mix a bright orange mixture. and start brushing the canvas-
the brush is too slow so I start pouring it out of it's linseed mixture bowl straight onto the canvass and rub it with a cloth until no more white can be seen.

I hate the result-
my compulsion led me to trade a white blank canvas
for an orange one-
I'm nowhere closer to coming up with an idea than when I started and now I have to wait two days for the paint to dry. By that time I would have aged two days and my resolve might not be what it is right now- the little I have left.

So the final result of my painting-
a blank orange canvas hiding behind my bedroom closet.

There was this old dawg from Japan,
who thought his left arm was a ham.
He salted it lightly
and took out a bitey
and screamed for some more as he ran.

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There was this young girl from the stars,
who stopped for some pudding on Mars.
The more that she ate,
the more she lost weight
until all that was left was her ****.

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I knew a young duck called magoo,
who liked to spend time at the zoo,
when the lion escaped,
he put on his cape
and fed everyone carnivore stew.

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There once was a girl called Cherise,
who befriended a flock of white geese.
They taught her to fly,
and as years passed by,
she grew feathers, two wings and a beak.

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You know the inventor called Einstein?
He once had beer with his eisbein....
A rock n Roll pout
soon formed on his snout
and now he listens to Rammstein.

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This­ ninja loved his katana-
he used it to cut through bananas,
one wicked night
he slipped with a fright
and cut off is head in the drama.

I found in the sun,
a power begun
of songs that I have sung.

An artist has wrung out
a glorious one,
My heart has gone numb.

Your body is a constellation,
From your hand to your toes,
Your eyes glisten with life,
And your passion whispers ecstasy.

Im letting you go,
My words fail me so,
So careful to break,
Terrified to wake,
Your dangerous magnetism-
Could ruin my world.

Ill build walls against you
and cut off my passion
Become a cold stone,
You will never know.

My inner drum,
my beating soul,
you are gone.

The flowers fall like sweeties
in the packet of my mind.
The answer flows completely
from the hand that stops the time.

The questions that were seeking
could potentially leave us blind
to the poetry that's creeping
to the rhythm of the times.
  
The finders fees of finding gold
are deeply grained in laws.
The crawling finger grasping
for the love of ***** ******.

The sailor tongues are swaggering
with anticipating  throws,
of innocent and eloquent
shows of pretty hoes.

Unbeautifully she undresses,
unraveling my understanding.
Unceremoniously she grabs me,
undoing me to madness.

Unbuttoning my pants
and tearing at my sleeves,
inelegant her moans and
undainty are her screams.

Unbelievable the ***
underlying all the sweat,
undenying is the passion
on the bed sheets that we wet.

Unconventional,
uncontrollable,
unforgettable the night.
unacceptable,
uncontainable,
the thought of mornings light.

Love,
I  just  want  know,  
like a child.

Is your world cracked with crucifixes?
Are your  life  eyes sparkling?
  
We die  lost,  
We are ill with a sickness called time.

Feel  the beautiful  sun.
Pursue light.
Make  pain flow from your face-
find the salt river called Shiloh
and let her pour down  your lonely path.

Drift  away  in your dream.
And quietly scream.