Jackie Mead: Favorites

Apr 2018 Jackie Mead

10 W for APriCoT's "Poetry Fruit & Vegetable Club"

Apr 2018 Jackie Mead

Mary-Eliz

10 W for APriCoT's "Poetry Fruit & Vegetable Club"

See you at APriCoT's Produce Club

we'll produce peachy poetry.

Having fun!

Apr 2018 Jackie Mead

Picasso Reincarnate

Apr 2018 Jackie Mead

Willy Shakysphere

Picasso Reincarnate

My wild ambition loves to slide - ye all must understand
But fortune's ice prefers only the most virtuous of hand.
In Malaga I grew weary and wanton to possess
The most colorless canvas, one easy with a lazy happiness,
Disdained by golden fruit to the viewer be
As I passed the crowd to gently shake the tree.
Now manifest in paint, inward contrived and long since
I stood in bold defiance with the heart of a prince,
Held up on the square by one wanting to buy my latest cause.
Against the wind I held it up in spite of all the laws.
Do they wish to thicken my lot among all their other mistakes?
What circumstances find you this? -This is what my mind makes!
The buzzing of my emissaries fill my ears
With many solitary jealousies and fears,
Arbitrary thoughts brought forward into the light,
Contemplating existence, must it prove my vision right?
Weak are the arguments! Which the true artist knows full well,
Where weak minded people curse my renderings or are easy to rebel.
For am I not governed by the moon and by the far off stars?
Tread lightly on me and don’t put me behind your own bars.
And once in a shard of time let the Annunaki’s scribe record,
That my vision once rendered could somehow affect their lord.
The unrecognized Enki still wants to be a chief, yet none
He created was found as fit as barren Adam.
Not that he wished his greatness to create,
For leaders should wish not to be called great.
But he like I know our titles are not to be allowed.
For titles are useless and only dependent upon a crowd,
Those are kingly powers, thus ebbing us out, they might be
Drawn by the dregs of a falsely acclaimed democracy.
But in my paint I attempt, with studied arts to ease,
And shed the unholy venom with visions such as these.
On the other side of the canvas, not much escapes my eye –
But once in front of it – nothing escapes the me that I call I.

I have several prints of Picasso's work and sometimes I ponder their true meanings. I'm like that. I wonder what was the artist thinking as he created this or that piece. Picasso was/is a hard nut to crack. Born of influence and trained mostly by his father he should have had a life of luxury. But such was not the case. For a time he lived almost penniless and hungry a lot of the time. But even in those years he not only refused to conform but he defied all reason to conform to what he was being taught as an artist. Instead he blazed his own trail. And today more people know the name of Picasso than any other artist, I dare say. So - in this piece it is my hope to show you how original he truly was. To me his magic is found in his ability to reflect his own thoughts into - if not inside of - a particular piece of his renderings. After just a little study - you can see him in his drawings, paintings, etc. Here's a last bit of trivia for you concerning Picasso. Were you aware that in his earlier young adulthood that he was so poor that he actually burned some of his own art just to try to stay warm? Think of what any of his burned renderings would be worth today. Now I call that perspective.

#picasso #art #painting #remarkable #persistent

Apr 2018 Jackie Mead

I’m Sorry

Apr 2018 Jackie Mead

Stella

I’m Sorry

I’m sorry I’m not good enough
I’m sorry I’m too loud
I’m sorry you don’t like me
But none of that is my fault
I can’t be what you want
And I hurt myself because of that
You don’t see what you say affects me
You don’t notice the self-inflicted wounds
You just keep adding on and on
On way I’ll break ya know,
With every words said against me
Another cut is made
Soon enough there won’t be enough room
When the day comes
Maybe I’ll have had enough of this abuse
Until then,
I’ll take what you give me
I’m just sorry you can’t see the good in others
I’m sorry you can’t see your own flaws
But sometimes sorry isn’t enough

Yeah, I hope you like it. Thanks for reading!

#depression #cutting #sorry #hurt #selfharm

Apr 2018 Jackie Mead

This is not a poem, but a letter.

Apr 2018 Jackie Mead

Dom

This is not a poem, but a letter.

Dear You,
My mind is white, almost like a blank canvas waiting for one to paint such art on it. I do not know how to think, what to say, or how to even breathe. I've noticed the harshness of life pass directly through me and my blank reaction almost as if it was nothing, almost as if i've never been hurt.
This isn't a poem, but a letter to my parents telling them that yes i might be young but i know the feeling of numb, yes i might be young but i know what the want feels like when all you want to do is drown your sorrows in a drink, a smoke, a person.
This isn't a poem, but a letter to my family, telling them that what i've taken interest in, isn't wrong. This is not something that i've just learned from television or the thin air, this is my heart and the way i feel, i've figured i can love him the same way i could love her, forgetting their different looks and parts, they both work the same so why can't i love and treat them the same?
This isn't a poem but a letter to my first love saying that i know what intentions i have and i know the tender heart that lies inside of me for you. I know that you may not believe me or ever see me with you again but the love that i feel for you remain in every word i've written to you because only when i write, my real feelings come out.
This isn't a poem but a letter to my mind saying that it's okay to overthink but it's never okay to forget to breathe. You can't live without the adventures and the love you earned. You can't live without fights and hate, you can't live without crying and breaking. This all makes you, you. So why change it?
This is not a poem but a letter to my heart saying why are you acting as if you don't care? too afraid to come out of the shadows, too afraid to be hurt. Why are you acting as if you can't love and as if you cannot change the world and follow those dreams that move behind your closed lids.
This is a letter to them asking why worry about who to love so young? why not wait till it comes? and once it goes, why do you break? hurting and acting as if you won't make it today.
This is a letter to society wondering why do we have to fit a certain image to be beautiful? why shouldn't love win and hate die deep within? why shouldn't one race be the same as the other? and why when we try to change the world, to change the ways of life, we die?
This isn't a poem but a letter, a letter to you and your heart and mind. A letter to everyone who's thinks as they lie, their cries drifting off into the night.
This is a letter from someone full of hope and change.
--
Sincerely, Dom.

I hope this letter makes you think.

#pain #love #her #him #hurt #family #society