Painter of Minds
I once met a man, in the forrests of Tibet.
His counternance was pale yet his name was Robinette.
Past the clearing of the Belt and down into the bottomneck stream
is where he lived in isolation with a gift of crafting dreams
With just a scroll and his ink he could conquer Goliath
a GIFT THAT enscribes him a legend, a self-imposed pariah
His mind was unhinged so the words were unhindered,
never once did he blink,lest his memories squandered
he would wield that pen, the greatest painter of minds
would surrender each soul with the lies he devised
he would keep an accounting of the words in each page
in all of those scribbles, were worlds to be named.
Those words made me sleep, guarding my peace
rendering this beast to a ransom release
The sentences were a rhythm that I could breathe
the punctuation of which, was smooth-calm light breeze
As I browed, frowned into the pages that were
So too the the vast letters my eyes chauffeured
mY senses mangled, my vision blurred
this was more than a vision, this was my life's metaphor
So the PAINTER MINDS,did paint me a dream
scratched out my boundaries and stroked in a stream
created new paradise, and new heavens unearthed
but the later was not to be, and the former re-emerged.
Copyright © Sizwe Hlabisa | Year Posted 2013
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