Mar 2013
The paint danced across the canvas
With hues as bright as the shinning sun
The colors burn, but are cool to the touch
They run and jump telling a long story
Small details melting together as one
They wanted to say something without words
To touch someone without them listening
Words are complicated, with rough edging
Paint speaks every language without a sound
Looking at a blank canvas, a blank world
Is that not what has us dreaming of more?
The dry layers, crash through a closed mind
Maybe not crashing, but testing the seal
The question is, will they let it break through?
Emotions show through the artist strokes
Although not intentional, we see them
The paint drags, thickening on the canvas
Strokes appear deeper in the cool paint
Expressing how they felt without a voice
With hues as bright as the shinning sun
The colors burn, but are cool to the touch
They run and jump telling a long story
Small details melting together as one
They wanted to say something without words
To touch someone without them listening
Words are complicated, with rough edging
Paint speaks every language without a sound
Looking at a blank canvas, a blank world
Is that not what has us dreaming of more?
The dry layers, crash through a closed mind
Maybe not crashing, but testing the seal
The question is, will they let it break through?
Emotions show through the artist strokes
Although not intentional, we see them
The paint drags, thickening on the canvas
Strokes appear deeper in the cool paint
Expressing how they felt without a voice
I entered this, and another poem into a contest called Poetry Slam at my school; it was an assignment, but I had fun writing it anyway. This poem means something to me because I love to paint. Oils, waters or even just a solid color on the wall.
