#pigments
Sepia filled with nostalgia,
vermilion sacred as life.
Is love worth the roselet breath,
where pearl-ivory turns to sacrifice?
For amber’s warmth, its fleeting feel,
Why wager on indigo’s mystic solace?*
Sep 4, 2025
Sep 4, 2025 at 3:00 AM UTC
falling is the color
of a naked heart, dipped
in cobalt dreams & violet
yearnings; bruises blooming
in amber, coagulating red roses;
marrow fueled & exposed, as it rises
—golden-yellow like the waking sun
with olive desires & an indigo passion;
it is in the merging of pigments into bright
light, brutal and blinding, but full of delight.
Aug 2, 2020
Aug 2, 2020 at 3:36 AM UTC
Pigments cascade down the canvas,
Coating the blank white with imagination.
Drip, drip, they fall with grace to embrace
The pocked surface beneath their bodies.
They intermingle, form new forms,
Yet continue to go their own ways,
Unaware of the driving force.
The artist stands off to the side,
Watching his creation swirl.
He created a storm, a beautiful storm.
He folds his arms, his face stoic,
For the pigments express his emotions.
Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 11:43 AM UTC