WHOLE-HEARTED MURALS-:-
serial
contrasting
counterparts
without
mannered
WHOLESOME SENSUALITY
hopeful
didactical
style
with SIGNIFICANT REPERCUSSION
inaugurate
disident
resembling
high
mindedness
Red streaks run across the locked canvas.
Tears of anguish widen and elongate both vertical
and horizontal lines.
Is it the lives spilled out on city streets?
Green blades of eternal renewal is the painters last
stroke.
Hope in a picture.
Paint brushes art inspires.
To look up, not down.
Muses murals,
painted on the walls of my
mind-corridors,
inspire.
It is her canvas,
her personal museum;
an expanse of illustrated
adventures, thoughts, feelings,
ideas and emotions, all in the
catalogue of my mind.
She never rests, it seems;
she channels unceasingly;
creations from the Source
of all things.
Her work is her paradise;
to me, it’s the nourishment
I continually crave.
Nevermore you will talk
of the forked tongue.
The genie was out-
in the jungle of legs.
Hunger was in plain sight.
You were wary of the wild-
dogs hounding at your gate.
An augury of some spilled blood ?
Lachrymal, the soot trickles
down from the black eyes on-
the marbled breast of a lone
survivor in the city of tombs.
Exhume you must the naked
truth ? I will not ask the name
of the ravisher, in this crowd
of fast disappearing shoes.
Satish Verma
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