Tag Archives: painting

phantasm

withered cheeks

warm not the frost

of winter’s chill

forget-me-nots

.

used gallery

of paintings fade

as strokes peel off

with art unmade

.

a fantasy rose

though you may be

a common thorn

is all they’ll see.

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heartaches painted in grey

i want a million diamonds

from the sky to shatter my perception

and allude my verboten tongue

.

waiting for florid ice and fire

to thaw in each other’s grasp, aureole eyes

flickering against the soft dimming of the lights

on and off and on and off and on…

.

these hearts don’t belong

to the bathroom stall

and your paperback tales aren’t mine

.

i wish i could collide my mouth with the promises

that you will never keep from me

and i wish you would climb out from the

black screen that you hide under

praying for a sordid memory

.

though they say it isn’t meant to be

but another distant heartache

spilling oil paintings at the back of my

monochrome cracked skull.

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Everyone’s A Critic

Oh, but mayhap I can’t always be

Delicate charcoal artwork strokes

I can also be a broken pencil lead

Crashed from furious hale evoked

Yet frankly, just who’s your canvas

To tear apart my painted landscape

Despite those noveaux starry nights

Being my only acrylic pastel escape

Oh, but mayhap I cannot always be

A louvre rendition you expect of me

Yet pray not be proud of your abstract

For such a madness might self-destruct.

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Spectral Painter

I’m the ghost you pulled out your throat

An amicable host painting lonely coasts

The nights appear deadly and serpentine

But that won’t cease my brush turpentine

I won’t forget to include the sunset colour

If you reverse and fall, I’ll sketch the hour

Hold my canvas for me against their edge

If I finish, I’ll hang it with stars on our bed.

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☆ you’re ★

♫•*¨*•.¸¸♪

a masterpiece painting

hanging on the halls of

louvre

critics dissect you with

every brush stroke and

colour

they point at you and

line up to buy souvenir

keychains

yet none of the aesthete

you’ve captured within

remains

you’re a lonely painting

dusty on the dark louvre

halls

another forgotten beauty

left to fade on the dimmed

walls.

♫•*¨*•.¸¸♪

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Filed under Poetry, Southern Constellations

The Cabinet of Broken Curiosities

Dangling pink pointé ballet shoes faked

Worn out by the cold shadows unseen

Pirouetting high in the dusty swan lake

Of just another lost dancer’s dream

.

Quills, nibs and broken dried pens found

Dripping a puddle of grotesque black ink

Onto the pages of a great book never bound

From a mind that winded but never thinked

.

Unplucked, rusted, old, stiff guitar strings

Strummed by the zephyr’s soft bearings

Absorbed in the silent symphony, mourn

Of just another musician’s unsung woes forlorn

.

Lush paintbrushes and chromatic sessions

Never to touch a canvas forever or today

Strange abstractions and love illusions

Unpainted and tainted in darkest of grey

.

An old curious cabinet sits unnoticed in the corner

Containing memories and emotions made for never

Of just another aspiring artist’s once hopeful ambitions

Til they were told to grow up and lost their colourful visions.

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Entr’acte Overture

~*~

A moment of silence please
For those who never get the chance
They show up to the party 
But they never get to dance

The losers, the liars
The bastards, the thieves
The cynicists, the pessimists
And those that don’t believe in nothing…

~*~

A ballroom of sleek transparent glass

Under the allure of the twinkling night skies

And all those vagrants who come to pass

Must shed their skin and reveal their disguise

.

No need to be convivial, no need to hide yourself

No need to use a mask, toxicity is not good for your health

Now if you may allow me to be on your side

Your arbiter elegantiarum, your own personal ally

.

Come now, and take my hand

Without words, you’ll understand

Hitch up that tattered dress

Wipe off all those makeup mess

.

No more speaking, not a single harsh word

For silence is what’s needed most in this world

We’ll spin and twirl, round and round

Dancing to nature’s mellifluous sounds

.

Hush now, settle down, don’t you cry

There’s no one here to judge you, dear

No one to maunder and whinge, no one to defy

No matter how bluntly frowsy you appear

.

Along the crowds in midsummer’s eve

We’ll dance along, let our bodies believe

That this is a painting, in belle epoque

Created so delicately with every brush stroke

.

Yes, we’ll dance till we can take no more

Until the glass gives away and shatters to the floor

But don’t let it hinder us, we’ll still dance along

As the scintillating floor is painted with crimson

.

I know it’ll be painful, but just look into my eyes

And you’ll see the universe veering by

And all that is lost may be found again

And all the wounds you garnered just might lose their pain

.

The razor-sharp glass is gilt-edged as well

Get lost in my pristine galaxies, don’t let time tell

Everything is just relative, all simply do jour

And soon fades away like a photo with no colour

.

And we’ll grace to the music until nothing else matters

As our hearts beat along and our souls flutter

We dance, until everything falls apart beneath our feet

And we finally fly into the heavens and leave entropy in its defeat.

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