We Are Like Trees We Are

The crown, the glory,
Bursting leaves,
Majestic tops
On full grown trees,
But then the part
That no one sees,
Deep and strong
The roots below
Nourishing,
So it can grow,
Anchoring,
For when storms blow,
Larger than the crown,
Though not on show,
Extensive,
But without a fuss,
History and strength;
T’was ever thus,
Remain hidden,
As it is with us.

Reconsidered

“You said you didn’t want coffee.”
“Yeah. I said that, but now I do.
I’ve reconsidered,
Thought things through,
And really,
I find,
If anyone should be gratefully inclined,
Thankful I can change my mind,
Not too bitter to leave the past behind,
It should be you.”
“I’ll get the coffee.”

Olympic Spirit?

Some love the competition,
The striving to be best,
Athletes giving all they have,
Put themselves to the test,
Trying to win medals,
No matter what the odds,
Olympic spirit, blah, blah, blah,
Me, I like the bods.

Alliteralympics

With all that,

Spinning, swimming,
Flipping, flopping,
Rolling, rowing,
Heaving, hopping,
Jumping, jerking,
Diving, dropping,
The Olympic Games,

Can be heart stopping.

Okay…just hold still…

Here’s my little cat, Cinnamon. I haven’t actually tried to paint her very often because it’s difficult. She keeps licking the paint off. So I thought I’d try painting a picture of her instead.

Cinny Sleeps

It’s not perfect but I think it’s a pretty good likeness. Here she is sleeping on my tablet case. The tablet was in there but it was turned off.

It’s not made of warm but I want to lie on it anyway.

The Burning of his Soul

he is a manic
barely suppressed
creative genius

and a depressed
non-conformist

a total artist

on fire with ideas
and drowning in
inky black sludge

his soul stuck
in both places

two sides that
repell each other
like the positive
and negative poles
of a magnet

from that struggle
comes the art

you might think
that being bi-polar
is the most natural
thing on earth

since the earth
itself is bi-polar

no they said
you are broken
so take these pills
to fix you

and you will be
no longer burning
no longer trapped
like a sloth
in a tar pit

you will be free

and so the burning
of his soul
ended

out it crawled
from the sludge

and there it sat
not moving
feeling nothing
creating nothing

no more pain
no more joy

and no more art

DEFINITIONS

We’ve codified, solidified,
Analyzed, patholigized,
In attempts to come to grips
With behaviours and symptoms,
Still for all our diagnoses,
Of neuroses and psychoses,
Medicines that science poses,
Maybe we were better off with demons.

In my heart. In my head.

I wish that I could say,
Without scaring you away,
What is really in my heart,
But I don’t know where to start.

Sharing with you my despair,
Is not easy and not fair.
For it belongs to only me.
It’s not meant for you to see.

Nor meant for you to pity.

Still…

I wish that I could say,
Without scaring you away,
What is really in my head,
But I’ll be quiet instead.

Manners Please!

Naysayers and complainers,
Have thought so all along,
An in-your-face air of disgrace,
Their smug self-righteous song,
They think rudeness makes them right,
But they’re very very wrong,
To think that being disagreeable,
Is akin to being strong.

We All Have Our Obsessions

It shouldn’t be too hard to guess what mine is.

This is the first Violation painting I attempted. It remains a favorite and hangs on my kitchen wall.

This is the second Violation painting I did, again in black with a red background. I gave it to a friend and former colleague.

I did a third Violation in Black painting quite similar to the first one, and gave it to a very dear friend. I don’t have a picture of it, though.

The first attempt of a red on black image. I didn’t want it to look too much like the Violator album cover so I kept the black background to a minimum. This one also hangs on my kitchen wall.