The swirls in the painting were thickly slathered onto the canvas
Would they ever dry? The artist was unconcerned.
Concentrating on the creative process, not the technicality of his art.
The art teacher was amazed at the beauty of the poppy.
This novice painter had created a masterpiece in this gorgeous floral.
The edges of the petals were crisp and clean, the folds looked real.
He wondered what else this young student was capable of doing.
The quintessential art piece, definitely juried into their art show.
Talk about how you feel, talk about how they fell
Purge your emotions without due process, but remember, it didn’t just happen overnight
He wasn’t always alright
Sometimes they cried through the night and smiled in the morning
Sometimes amidst tears and pain they managed a smile
And sometimes he tried to share a part of him with you but you didn’t listen
He tried to be a man as community dictates, he didn’t cry in public as community distastes
He faced every challenge as a test
He cried inside with a dry face
He faced a pile of bills by popping pills, hoping the world would see his desperation
Instead they made memes and laughed typical of his generation
The world juried, judged and prosecuted him, without due process and without clear evidence,
they politically executed him
A once upon a time hero turned villain
It didn’t just happen, if only you could listen as he called out
They don’t just fall from grace; they hang on the precipice long enough begging for help,
until nobody seems to care.
Time is the recorder, measuring events that expire
And not the Judge, deciding when events transpire
it silently and anonymously prints beginnings to endings
The world juried our Love affair
Earth’s, Mountains and Rivers observes Us moving as fast as a locomotive
Its verdict mellow, earthy and aged
The eye witnesses put their trust in time
Though, is time always right?
No, not love, love has neither beginnings nor endings
It is running, coursing and moving
From love, time, in cursive, sacredly connects
Your future to my past
Our souls former lovers
You’re my guiding star in the land of amour
The narrow road in the wilderness of love
I, rocketing to the moon and back as fast as the speed of light
There time bends, folds and freezes to consider Soulmates
For this, we made an appeal to the Judge
The verdict overturned to green, to rosy, and to ageless
We put Our trust in God and God alone
My hobby arrived accidentally
In the form of a request issued simply but emphatically
By my nine-year-old granddaughter.
Grandma, can you paint with me?
Was she crazy?
These canvases cost eight dollars apiece.
I was not worth that.
i was not worth that.
I was not worth that.
She would not let up
Kept begging.
I finally decided to "waste" one on myself.
I was juried into two art shows by the end of the month.
I am a dabbler, a scribbler, a player, not an artist!
How had this happened? I love neon paints. LOVE THEM!
My entire house is filled with nail holes, hidden by four hundred
Yes I did say four hundred neon-paintings
And they glow in the dark.
Because we have black lights
And they are so seventies
Just like I am
Best gift I ever gave myself
Allowing my granddaughter to talk me into
Wasting an eight dollar canvas on myself.
That was five years ago and I have never looked back.
Took off like a rocket, and feel completely fulfilled.
Avid anteaters ate artichokes
Blossoming beyond barley’s beauty,
Classic chews can clearly
Deny delivering dangerous dangling dates
Evening eggplants enormous evolved ecstatic
Ferocious fig fritters furthering Frito’s finesse.
Galloping gingerbread giants gobbling goats gelatin,
Hurrying heavily handsome hindquarters
Imagining illustriously ignorant
Jealous juried jams
Killing king’s kiwi kingdoms.
Lazy llamas laughed lightly
Making monster muffins melt
Near Neville Nettle’s nearest nutty nerves.
Opulent Ostrich ostracizes olive oils,
Putting putrid previewing pastries past
Quality quizzing quails'
Ridiculously rancid roasts
Seriously swimming sideways since strawberries
Traveled toward tender turkey talk,
Undermining understudy’s uninteresting
Very vivacious vixen’s vigorously vain vixens
Who will work wonders when
‘xtra ‘xtravagant ‘xtrapolations
Yell, yowl, yippee yelping
Zeroing zealous zealots’ zesty zeal.
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