The Child Won'T Paint
The Infant won’t paint, cried out the Father;
he sensing an otherworldly genius
in the toddler’s eyes.
The painterly parent bought paper, acrylics,
oils, brushes, chalks, and crayons…
not even a finger painting emerged.
The child steadfastly refused to paint.
The father exclaimed:
“For the glory of God why not paint!”
His offspring turned away to suck his thumb.
Days past…years.
The child grew to be a sullen teenager.
He began to write poetry – and such woeful,
doleful poetry!
Exclamation marks rose up in heaven
as thick as bamboo forests.
His father read them, and his face grew ashen
with a sickly alarm.
The poems spoke of phantasmagorical visions,
hordes of screaming demons dismembered
herds of hapless humans.
Abysmal were the visions unleashed
from the boy’s erupting consciousness.
Presentiments flew up from the pages
as horrid as the blood-red dragons of Hades.
After reading his son’s latest works
the father exclaimed:
“For God’s sake, NEVER paint!”
He took the young man for long walks in the country,
forced him to join a local soccer team,
suggested a military career,
alas
the boy began to paint.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2020
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment