Email Poem

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Poem

The picture is of an oldish man sitting on a hard chair in front of an Edsel on which is the painting of a fire. The room is concrete with some brushes and paints next to the Edsel and one coat hanging on the wall.



Fire Painting

The bare room speaks of remorseless times
of few, fickle buyers and assaulted health
The cockroaches of poverty swarm in dark corners
and scurry out at night to feast on his pennies
The invisible mist of despair seeps from filthy concrete floor 
to caper, jest and pluck at his threadbare coat of fading pride.

Unquenchable spirit flowed from soul
Brush of wood and hair became wand
The dull, stained canvass smote with light
The flickering flames grew with every stroke
Memories of friends and laughter like twigs
Form the crown from whence everything springs
The red Winter Sun finds the passion of Life
Velvet Summer mornings gyre with joy and light
Anger and desire colour  dance like sprites
Fused all together barely held by the frame
His fire of Spirit banishes the chill.

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