shades defining.

now I have to say that I usually like

the colour as items, yet maybe not

as entity.

I face the slate

grey

and bleed red

no words to describe the mass,

the danger of it all, the hate  that

rises.



the parallel,

the home, the black chair.



power house.

bone house.

going quiet sometimes, not knowing why.

being smaller with the year almost gone.

marvelling at the looseness of the rediscovered vest

forget the leg moisturiser,

therefore fail as a modern being.

red depleted.i use blue,
oh the darkness of it all,the surface tension,

primeval scream
hidden by centuries of crimson

touch of red

suggested at dinner, to make
a photograph splendid, i noticed

the same in paintings at exhibition.

looking out, the grave yard, noticed
a touch of colour by the white.

cutting,

bleeding the lead

into showers,

and explosive marks.

the power house rears its head again,

pouring images down

like rain.

when she heard that i had been drilling fitfully,

she asked why but i could not explain really. so

i added the stop.

it seems that some like sticks, while others do

not.

there are a few of us, one of us is      leaving.