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JV Beaupre May 2016
"So why are you painting a woman in a bottle?"
The challenge. Handling all those quirky reflections and layers of transparency.

"She has phantom arms and legs, what about that?"
Yes, pretty cool. A Vitruvian woman in a bottle. *

"I'm looking for Meaning: Don't paintings look under the surface?"
You mean, what does it mean, really mean? It's just a way to test my skill.

"But what are you saying with that?"
It's not feminist nor anti, it's just an exercise. Besides, there's a rope.

"But aren't you, as an artist, exposing reality, presenting emotions and feelings, seeing the soul?"
I'm not on a soapbox-- I'm testing my skill-- I paint and don't think about it too much. After all, 'Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar' or is it 'just a smoke'?

"I don't like your message."
OK, I'll paint you in a bottle...
As a shrunken head.
On the other hand, I once painted an agricultural scene based on a photo from the 1930s that I thought carried a social message. Most people wanted to know what kind of tractor it was.
Syv Elena  Aug 2018
Jumpscare
Syv Elena Aug 2018
I like to play horror games
Amnesia was the first one I played
The monsters were scary
The envoirement was eerie
But if I'd call the monster Steven
Instead of scared I'd be merry

Steven was such a funny guy
He looked funny
He walked weirdly
Nothing of him would terrify

The only time he'd scare me was when I'd open the door
Sometimes the jumpscare would make me fall to the floor

Many years I have played these games
Even though I was scared, in the end I'd be okay

That was until I stood next to my brother
He was not yet in his grave
This experience was like no other
It crashed on me like a giant wave

I'd never seen him lay so still
It was hard but I wanted to try
Though I knew it could only go downhill
I wanted to touch his hand one last time

I lowered my body and reached out my hand
I was pretty sure he would scare me right then & there
But my brother didnt move, not even a hair

And I realized at that moment how much I wanted that jumpscare
I lost my brother back in February to suicide. Back then I didn't have the words to say what happened when I stood in that room with my best friend. I told her when I lowered my body that I was waiting for a jumpscare I knew would never happen.

It were very tough times.
To be honest, I still can't handle it.
Steven Kelly  Feb 25
Matter
Steven Kelly Feb 25
When I was young I discovered Matter. As I got older I discovered Anti Matter
Now I realise it doesn't ****** Matter.






© Copyright Steven Kelly
Nat Lipstadt Jul 2016
<>

for the early morning teach

<>

she's young, beautiful and thinks her life is cursed,
in the past, subject of some of my poems, her health to nurse,
yet, as is normative, you fall into & out of a well of touch,
until you accidentally once again path cross,
she provides a precision mathematical status update

"i'm fairly certain things are like at least 38% worse."

it is 1:38AM for you,
the not unnoticed ironic minute and hour
when the night ether has prematurely worn off,
rising time close but not nearly close enough,
a dark dose of a sleeping nurse's aide seems inappropriate,
and TV reruns seem like an insult to your brain

instead you turn on some belle string musique,
a Grande Messe des Morts,
a chorus,
singing a high mass for the dead,
while opening all your various email luggage and baggage,
smiling as you read a poetess's message of
laughter behind tears

"i'm fairly certain things are like at least 38% worse."

and Mississippi ******,
your uncontrollable mixed drink of her emotional
Grenada grenade cocktail,
flavored with musique, paintings, and words and a nearby beloved's
gentling sleep sounds,
has you writing your own protest poem,
your very own,
oy vey, grande messe,
about lives that were supposed to be
pictures of perfect artistry
and for but a word or two,
instead, a painting of a life that got hung upside down,
and indeed,
leaving a grand mess and no one to help clean up


alternatively weeping, laughing as you are thinking,
smiling recall
Laurel and Hardy's summary definition
of living a life's of ill begotten, misventured adventures:

"Well, here's another nice mess you've gotten me into !"

but 38% worse?

not an even-steven rounded up 40%,

should I write you only 38% of a poem, teach?
or more accurately, more mathematically,
138% of what was writ before?

and you recall your older, prior words
about the love hate affair between
you poet,
and the beauty of written brevity
(her style)

and you give her this then,
this rambling, scrambled, attention paid notification,
word attentiveness, a summary of your readings
of her cheddar sharp and honey mustard sweet retorts of
pained poetry,

it is insufficiently but perfectly sufficient,
a summarizing phrase that opens
and yet
briefly encapsulates all that
you are feeling for her

"thinking of you"

or the 38% larger version thereof -


*"Well, here's another 38% more
nice poetic mess
you've gotten me into!"
2:44 AM,
of course
Steven Kelly Feb 24
An Actor, A Comedian, & A Poet that is me.
I write poems about the things that I see
Or the things that I say
Or the things that I do
I am a Poet that much is true

I write poems to spread my word
Some make sense
Some are Absurd
Some are rude
Some are fun
I am a poet now I am done.

© Copyright Steven Kelly
STLR  Apr 2017
Spirits & Rituals
STLR Apr 2017
I'm on that spiritual
Spirits with metaphysical

diabolical criminal
my methodical rituals

captivate, you regurgitate  
when I sit and I spit the truth

activate, no originate
when I spit flows in figure 8's

need a female with a figure 8
body, hope I could figure it

hot tamale  on dinner plate
was my focus it didn't play

serving satin
I *******

4th dimensions
I levitate

my flows a solar / extension
bipolar floater with / hench man
att-ack like cobras/ extended
extendo clip / interception
vocal record / compression
in an out of / depression

Ajax in kitchen I'm mixing
with all this Henny I'm drinking

John Lennon & Jimmy Hendrix
remixed the sampled I'm sinning!

I've killed it since the beginning
my ex is gone **** these *******

a hexagon in the kitchen,
I cook with shapes of aggression

My ex is calling
I hang up like who are you?

she calls again
so I hang up like the bill collector

see in my mind I have traveled
to different sectors

sections are often of Optimus
lately I've been feeling the opposite

night prescription of *****
keeps my mind /       off the odds and ends

I should be working on offices

this consequence is brought to you by a novelist mind,
Steven king with a Flow that's ridiculous I

flip like a pendulum, fly

I’m only seeking good vibes
heating seeking misses to the sky

the years I haven’t been on
******* 25

this year I’m ******* **** out of proportion
till my ******* bends like a circus contortionist
worst is I'm not even forcing it

words I fornicate and fork with
like alphabetical ****** at a spelling bee ****

cast from my inner orifices
mighty morph into a scorpion
Society I I’m bored with.
ideology, my philosophy women——ogomy

since I'm speaking with honesty
all I see is the time that leaks
moments of curiosity
**** all the animosity
***** IM DOING IT PROPERLY
fancy mind like I'm Socrates
kicking faces with basses
like I got a team in the soccer league    
I will fulfill my prophecy,
profit to other scholars is another dollar in pocket, please
CNTRL - https://soundcloud.com/stellarhero/cntrl
Scoot Jan 16
What Does He Do but spin me up with sunshine?
batting away
the Bad Boys
with a broom
because Beautiful
Bashful Women
should not belong
where they´re Blushed
-Black and blue-
Beaten through
and through
-then Blessed
to do it again.
Sally says she loves him
Steven says me too
stupid Sally
Silly Sally
said this much too soon
sliding down a spiders nest
down its slippery silk
Dark and Warm a home away
Staying ¨safe¨ where sally´s used to
try hard
not to
focus on that
Black and Blue Blushed face
I´m not in an abusive relationship currently. This is just something I wrote because I have a lot of empathy for situations like this.
Russell Adams Feb 2015
It differs from you to me
What is it?
I do not see.

Iv been told its clouds of strife
periodically pierced by rays of light
As if gutted by a knife
In a futile attempt to burn away the endless night

Another may believes life is rife with misery
Gilded in plates of mystery
In a subtle attempt to confuse those living day by day
Letting the limited time bestowed upon us fade away

A man named Norm thought life was a game
Played by those who thought the same
Money, greed, and a constant need for power
Leaves one alone
Surrounded by those who's thoughts long turned sour

What life is, we'll never truly know
If put on this earth by random acts of science
A man by the name of Steven thinks so

Some think people have and incessant need for compliance
Others, a yearning lust for rebellion and defiance

The things I know are no secret to you
I most certainly believe you already knew
Life isn't perfect
Life isn't fair
Life is most always worth living
I
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