The Perfect Painting

The Perfect Painting A Wink at the Eternal Darkness is here for your inspection I make things only to destroy them I make seas you can’t sail in Beautiful women you can’t love Bowls of fruit you cannot eat And trees you cannot climb above I am a painter of perfection with colors applied to all you see With nearly perfect breathing touches except the touch of life Not a bolt of lightning in the pitch black night Nor a flash of science that saved humanity from religion Not even the sight of God in the empty void waving good-bye Drifting away in the distance through the artist eye Explains why the sun dances on in winter upon my canvas With brush in hand and every color and design at my command My art never completes itself as all life should It hangs there like a pendulum of time So I’ll burn it down to remind myself There is no answer to the “Why” of life and art Only “How” it got its start It starts with fire 5/15/2014 The Perfect Painting Contest