LINEAR TENDENCY
interpreted
strategy
endow
&
infuse
notions
modifies
unfinished
&
fused
masquerading
as
perception
tactile
&
distant
conceptual
discovery
of
existing
reality
It’s early July and what’s happening is
The weather’s so hot it will make your hair frizz
And perhaps even ruin that cold champagne fizz
At Taylor and Kelce’s “I do’s.”
Abe Lincoln sits gazing at water, now green,
With algae the worst anybody had seen
And you-know-who claiming his conscience is clean –
It’s vandals that one should accuse.
The National Mall has a Giant State Fair
But somehow the crowds aren’t showing up there.
Performers pulled out, for they’d rather be where
They’re not forced to air you-know-who’s views.
Though the temps may be broiling, an obvious fact,
And the wedding at Madison Square will distract,
The sad truth is the soon-to-be 4th has been stacked
With so much that it’s hard to enthuse.
For our country’s divided on every stage,
Which will make it a challenge for us to engage
And beneath all the fireworks, sorrow and rage
Will infuse all the red, white, and blues.
I long to ink the sunrise pink,
whilst heeling tall on sailboat deck.
I drink the blue impassioned drink.
I long to ink the sunrise pink,
Coerce the sun with brilliant wink,
Infuse the dawn with fluid peck.
I long to ink the sunrise pink,
whilst heeling tall on sailboat deck.
A smile and a wink
a wink and a smile
Does the wink infuse
the smile with guile
Or is it augmentic ~
to a smile sincerely authentic
He sat upon his handcrafted mahogany stool
Facing the white plains of his canvas
His palette ready with selected color
Vision crisp and sharp like salted chips
Raising his brush to touch the matter
...clumps
The connection is resistant to attention
The heart is cracked, but never open
Movement toward closes opportunity
Like a mechanical apparatus without pause
So, the artist puts down paint and brush
Focusing on the receptivity of the canvas
...smooth
Once again, he draws close to deliver
The paint touches but turns to deep black
Blind people can't see value without light
The other senses sharpen the focus
Hearing what isn't refracted
Feeling what shouldn't be touched
...taste
Patience guides the flow of the artist
As he speaks life over the flowing paint
"My love, I infuse my vision in every stroke
You are no longer barren and afraid."
The canvas vibrates as sight is restored
The image brings forth the fruit
...goodness
"You, precious one....are not for sale."
Written by Trudy Schrader on 04-26-2026
Exploring trochee like the skies sigh,
Brushing those emotion lay,
Liberty the freedom so high,
Wording inks featherly cliche.
Brushing those emotion, O, lay,
Exploring trochee like skies sigh,
Impulse thru the impulsing slay,
Painting like there's no why.
Liberty the freedom so high,
Eight seven metric sound rhythm,
Exploring trochee like the skies sigh,
Radiate like colorful prism!
Wording inks featherly, O, cliche.
Poetic seek artful apply,
Unfathomable soul up play,
Exploring trochee like skies sigh!
Music infuse thru deafen ears,
Torchee the heart beating defy,
Turning heart in high joyful tears,
Exploring trochee like skies sigh!
SYNCRETIC TENDENCIES
positive
extremes
penetrate
the
mind
with
subtle
interpretatIons
&
infuse
analytical
speculative
subjectivity
tolerating
yet
eptiomising
proclivities
in
flights
of
fancy
as
inner
tensions
relax
in
isolated
outlines
The space between
what is,
what is not,
what was,
what’s yet to come
a void,
unmarked,
like untouched parchment.
Conjure anything upon it,
with it.
Infuse it with existential ache
or the unburdened wonder of a child.
Revel.
Adorn it with the sun,
or the moon,
with me and you.
Imprint it with all you are.
Drench it,
as if it’s your final moment there.
Extract every drop
from the marrow of your being.
Its destiny is forged by your hands
in ways you cannot yet fathom.
it’s raining leaves
hallelujah
it’s raining leaves
and those shapes
are leaping over me
they’re coming down
the jewels of a crown
hallelujah
it’s raining leaves
and I’m crushing them
descending, ascending
and I’m grooving,
hushed at the sound of
hallelujah
hurray, my legs hurt
in just the right way
what a great payday
the parchments of ink
that infuse from the gates
of heaven, I sink
into the scurry of tulip,
maple and birch
and I raise my hands
and my eyes do glow
hallelujah
it’s raining leaves
Life is but a singular happy dream.
God crafted with light and steam.
A marvelous imposing fantasy
For me alone to transverse and see
A joyous adventurous masquerade
Where celebrants pass in a parade
It fits like the most comfortable shoes
As if it was composed by Mother Goose.
But fearing God will find us out.
We erase every vestige of doubt.
Cause God knows how to infuse.
In a huge bowl fantastic brews
The key elements He stirs with care.
To invent a life with ease and flare
And then He spins like a tapestry
The fabric of life in all its majesty
So, through it we chase daily success
Donned in a cloak of sublime behest.
Daily we chase our fantasy morn to morn
And thank God for that day we were born.
Like a lamp that never wane low,
She burns brightly where weary hearts find refuge;
Her flame gild the tears that overflow,
And turn to gold what pain would infuse.
Her laughter as light as summer rain,
Awakening spirits where shadows have long lain;
Her kindness like the first dawn ray,
Pursue the night and embrace the day.
Oh the gentle light, and blazing flame,
In thee, the warmth of Heaven’s heart is found;
Thy glow proclaims your glorious name,
A lamp of love where grace abounds.
In thee, God’s whisper finds place,
A still small song the angels hear;
Thou walk in love's eternal grace,
And spread joy afar and near.
Dedicated to my loving cousin, Alabi Sarah Shade
Hot inside,
Cold outside,
Doesn't collide,
It's still called life.
Cold bodies,
Warm bodies,
Infuse the soul,
Spirit complete all.
Willed soul,
Trained mind,
Folded emotion,
Understanding life.
Up you climb,
Jovial down hill,
Windy feel at peace,
Season's of life it bring.
Tree scores and ten,
By reasons of caring,
Or more than good years,
Beyond the hill is still calling.
Food chain,
Cycle of trend,
Still to choose life,
Knowing death is inevitable.
Truth is an orphan
alone in the wind
License for others
who hide from within
Facing the storm
without fear or excuse
A guardian steps forward
— with hope to infuse
(To Charlie Kirk: September, 2025)
one with the vastness, conspiring with space
magnetised palms transmit radiant light
if the receptor chooses to embrace
healing mists infuse heightened bliss delight
that by God’s hands, wrongs suffered are made right
thus in monk mode, energies with love yoked
magic is conjured, divine grace invoked
That's what we are
That's how we came
Simple, common thing
Inanimate yet, produce
From the best hand made
Fashion in a gentle form
Stood lifeless, face off
Life infuse, same image
Now praising face to face
With love and compassion
The Master has perfected
His work of art made into
A real masterpiece in life
And that is you and me.
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