Thursday, March 6, 2008

I Am: Part II

I am 
An artist with words
A Draftsman of disembodied thought
Davinci with a new set of oils
(Curious to where Real begins before it ends...)
Rembrandt in the renovated man's era
A Picasso mocking color in theory

Coarsely worn bristles are my lyrics
So delicately laid upon this canvas of cloth
(One that I tend to call Apathy)
They give texture to ordinary streaks
Though none of us "poets" see ordinarily
For our eyes are shut tight by the adhesive of ashes
We breathe in pastels of the most intoxicating nature

I am 
Susceptible to the wills of an amateur's desires
I can play like Daguerre with camera obscura
Capturing still, black-white frames
Of Deadness
Frailty
Renewal--

charred feathers floating pitifully 
through the tunnels of dusk
graceless and stiff
over Intuition's bloodied trenches.

1 comment:

sarah said...

such imagery!! you write so prettily lindsey jane : )