IT STARTED WITH A BLANK CANVAS
Come lay your paint on me, it pleaded
I’m here in this garret, naked and cold
So what could I as a sensitive artist, do
Except comply, dabbing shades of blue
Reaching for indigo, as if I’d been told
Then pausing, to hear what it needed
Canvas relieved it was no longer blank
Stood there proud, and eager for more
As if formally bloodied in its first hunt
And so pleased, I almost heard it grunt
To win this creative battle, if not a war
For every new daub, the muse to thank
Coloured layers, streaks and a smudge
To which even a rainbow might defer
But now an abstract image has its day
It now had a life of its own on display
And for myself, expression is the spur
Unpainted areas still bearing a grudge
Both the brushes and I played our part
The canvas with a coat of many colours
With a final flourish, it is finally signed
And now it seems to have its own mind
It’s access for all, with raised portcullis
Now a painting, perhaps a work of art
Characters.
I have these characters I created
I wake and see them
I know how they think and
I know their hopes and fears
One’s a father, alone with his priority
For the last ten years his girl’s his all
Nurturing and protecting Loving and
mild, caught in trap, By an
obsessed child, a friend to his girl
One is the child now all grown
Has been to university
Discovered life in a year alone
Vulnerable, now used, thought
It was love, but being abused
The best friend with a hidden agenda
Easily led, bearing a grudge
For her friend’s father who
ignored a teenager’s flush
Did the right thing, though wrong for her
Years later, She’s exacted revenge
For the snub of her crush,
Now for the star, a narcissist in the mix
Everyone’s expendable. No one has value
Loves the power stardom brings
Enjoys the torture and exploitation
Of the lower, lesser beings.
They all wake me, go around my head
I’ve got them down on paper
But they still haunt my bed.
David Cox 15/12/21
It was time to let the bygones to be bygone,
And this they meant from the cockles of their hearts.
They felt that the injuries they had to endure were done,
It was too much to think over again about the hurts.
They avoided any thoughts bearing a grudge,
To start stressing over the bitterness would be crass.
Thoughts of unforgiveness would once again make them judge
And this will start the sullenness from the grass.
It was too much to think about the hurts again,
After all they felt that it was weakening.
They had absolutely nothing more to gain,
Because they realized that it was time for healing.
They understood that to bear the hatred would confine
Their inner peace, but to forgive would be divine
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