A gradient view
Brushed upon our eyes gently
Beauty in the blur

Cleansed vision allowed unity
Sharing grace not harming it

Skip the difference
Remove the gray to enter
Venture and delve deep

Earth's canvas finally painted
Amateur artists lifeless

Picture-perfect spectacle, splattered upon the canvas
White canvas polka-dotted, splashed, smacked
With an ensemble of colors partaking in lively dances
Artistry exemplary, simple applause apparently apt.

It was this artist’s one shot
The proof was in the painting
The piece ; joy is what it brought
The other piece, other joy, exhilarating.

Reds, violets, blues
Pinks, greens, and orange hues
Rainbow splats and careful flats
Certain clusters of paint make me glad.

Though, like every painting painted
A hidden passage creating vexes
Faint sadness ; happiness tainted
The mind of this creator perplexes.

All the while I’ve been feeling his art
And touching the surface
Deep below was his heart
Well crafted mask that hugged his face

I shall pick his brain
Quite literally, though it’s repulsive
For this painting was his last, ashame
His retirement is messy, but in an eye of an artist
This gunpoint suicide was one that held artistic fame.

His thoughts are colours,
His hands are brushes,
And he touches me
Quite artistically.


-- Eleanor

I sat not really sure what was on my mind
Was it the cold night with shivers threw my spine
Or was it a bunch of things going threw my artistic mind

Now I realized I was overthinking such a simple question
But there so much I could mention

I could talk about the stars I see out my window
Or maybe that movie I watched earlier with the widow

But instead I over thought and soon forgot
What original was my penny for thought

She wants to wax artistic
Her audience so rapt
Are watching every movement
As something in her snaps.

She raises up the scalpel
Her canvas takes the brunt
Of artistry in temper,
Of truth she daren't confront.

Her pencil lead stabs slowly
In repetition bland
It draws out lines, it stabs out points
Misguided by her hand.

She lifts her palette higher
As red ink starts to dash
Down lines made by the pencil
On the canvas she has slashed.

She's showing her life story
For she knows no words to say
What the horrors are that taunt her,
Flaunt her, haunt her every day.

She spills a can of petrol,
She lights a tiny match
And down her canvas one last time
Her fingernails scratch.

She throws it in the fire
And she dances round the flames
Crying, screaming and repeating:
"My life story I disclaim!"

Submerged
in slumbering marshes of youth
soot riddled, benign mole
mermaids and Jupiter bathed in the
water of her soul
shape shifting contradictions
crumbs of a whole

Strewn
in the irony of thorned garlands
on eggshell whims, jettisoning off cliffs
She plunged headfirst
seeking his gnawed bristle lips
lattice tresses curving
along his finger tips

Scrambling
she held a chisel in one hand
the other groping a Jade shard
fledging yearnings
to make hay in the barnyard
As surly incense sticks turned to ashes
on a wedding card


Serendipity
experienced by intertwining fibers
of a coarse, unruly yarn
parables murmured to her torso
he laid  sprawled in the barn
plucking leaves off petioles
in her threadbare farm

I'm alive,
I'm here to thrive
With nothing to do with the word connive..
I've got to live smart,
And love with my whole heart,
Be focused as though in a game of dart,
Be creative and live by my gift of art....

Sliver of silver moonlight beams.
From the other side of the  window gleams.
Shines so bright in this dark lit room.
But I cant get out of this awful gloom.
Heart aches and I feel it cracking.
But I cant think of reasons for it to be happening.
I hate myself and I'm so ******* sad.
I'm no good at anything and it makes me mad.
I cant make music, I'm an awful writer.
I have no degree so I'm impossible to hire.
I grew up never knowing what to do.
With no interests, talents, or will to give clue.
I'm stuck as an adult with what feels like no future.
I'm stuck in my head and I feel like a loser.
I don't know anything and I hate myself.
Wish there was a way to escape this hell.