October 2014

Color series



Two outlooks:
(light and the absence of)
One experience:
(the heart's reform)

There is a loosely woven canvas
Made of slick and slippery thread
Strong, and still, and silent.
Edges sharp yet strangely frayed
and traced with scarlets where the tiny squares seem to have bled.


The paint drip-dropped through spaces
For a while we sat and stared -
Watched the canvas sag and sallow -
thick with colors, tainted paint
Watched it as it tattered, tore.
Weighted down, it bled.


The colors mixed and muddled
To a murky darkness dim
The grimy leathered canvas breathed a shallow wheeze
and coughed up blackened phlegm


Finally we turned away
To leave its sorry, pulpy core
before we came to understand the origin
of all the beauty it once bore


While our backs were turned,
The bottom rose with a breath - fulfilling, deep.
While our backs were turned
The bottom rose-
up through the skeletal wood beams
and became taut the tattered, broke-in seems.

The staples placed it firmly on the soft and stable wooden frame

The slick and slippery thread again a canvas yellow-white
Slowly resurrected- calmly, beautifully
Come and look, come and see
How each soft cool kiss of bristles
on a new brush stroking gently
is leaving colors-
breathing light.

Don’t remember?

Come and see, come and look.
Come and see the vivid colors
Come and look at living light.
— Jenny