Cooler than Arctic ice
Yet, you warm the palette of my life
With your nearly bluebell shades
Layers of sifted sky
Diluted into the tender grey clouds
That slowly dance
Towards tears of rain
How my heart longs to know you
As my life brushes past
Your pure selfless pouring out
Unaware, you resonate clarity;
Enlighten with sobriety
The lilting, vacant canvas
Of my existence
Categories:
prussian, art, blue, color, friendship,
Form: Free verse
Nestled with the glittering elements,
I ponder the immortality of the senses—
my lucidity twirls,
as pirouetting flakes through
sapphire mist amidst cyanic windstorms,
drifting like arctic embers,
towards cerulean twilight skies,
beyond frost covered pains,
littered across glacial clouds that linger,
swirling upon an indigo iced cluster of
topaz teal stars,
enveloping my cobalt soul beneath your
cashmere caress—
we behold the wonder of an
opulent crescent moon,
cradling our kismet love, in
vows of our balsamic destiny, ever
sanctioning icebound purgatories
buried deep in our bones, in
flurry feathered snowfields,
guiding our
souls back home to our halcyon hereafters,
where I’ll sit throned as the
queen of blizzards,
wearing a crown of bleeding splinters.
Categories:
prussian, feelings, hope, love,
Form: Free verse
Prussian Blue
Let me tell you a little story,
Of an artist that I once knew.
A proud adopted Yorkshireman,
Who only paints in Prussian Blue.
Landscapes wishy-washy
Water colours from life, but not true.
A pallet of so many colours,
But only uses Prussian Blue.
To some folks he is a Master,
To others genius through and through,
But I never rated him myself,
Because he only paints in Prussian Blue.
Categories:
prussian, art, character, color, satire,
Form: Rhyme
slight decay under the suns
metallic half-lit shoulder.
angular signs and sinews fall in the late
evening.
in every field the wandering stones
sigh and clap their tumbling foreheads
down a little.
lying next to the cleft of a rock ninety
degrees past a bent heaven.
there if you watch and wait you will find it,
the ground up pigments of the skies liturgical form.
now the stones cannot forget so that
the grass of the field may go on living.
the basin brought to return half empty
in the low light.
beautiful in its winter slant robed
garmets of light blue frost.
**inspired by the painting
"the entombment of christ"
by adrian van der werff.
first painting to use prussian blue
Categories:
prussian, forgiveness,
Form: Blank verse
Prussian feet
in a hurry to run to warmth
Past all badness
Past side tracking
needing the steam crack
a good soaking brings
These blue feet
frozen in fear
from a stepping in ice pools
of beckoning sin
have never been calloused before.
Never touched strife
and bristled scar tissue
Never fell headlong
in a devious freeze
'till now.
But run they do
and run they will
aching from stinging
and paining from thaw
Cold feet
in a hurry to run to warmth
to steam baths of redemption
and miracle mending
Flesh revived from Prussian
to pink.
Categories:
prussian, faith, forgiveness, inspirational, life,
Form: Free verse