the fireworks of painting behind closed lids
in a single mind, where no-one forbids
this is where real art is
where one can do the biz
holding breath ‘til the sparks fly
and memorizing the reasons why
on canvas so the edges fade
and then the images are not betrayed
as lucid as a world of disbelief
is the spectrum of an unconscious thief
so the hues in this dream of nought
are the colours of one single thought
while the paint dries on a second’s term
reason will to impressions affirm
©2009 Hey Hey
2 comments:
A lovely read this morning. Truly you have a unique way with words. Enjoyed the poem muchly.
Edwin
Thank you Edwin.
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