a mad artist has an ailing fate with women, inspiring his oceanic paintings |
*Wanton Waves* The wild painter’s hand dances rapidly waves of color surround his body beyond the frame, he'll place the blame an ocean of waves create her face, blue and purple shadows amidst them, the orange sun sets his vision ablaze I watch him through a clairsentient window, flinging paint, like a madman of romantic creation... his amber aura glowing...serpent rising… up around and down again sacral energy flowing he splashes the canvas in the face, with feuding blue and purple paint An inauspicious embrace, and again another mistake He’s submerged below and apt to make his movements induced from incessant heartache so he’ll share his beach with another doll forget it all… sweeten his watery salted fall with new lips to kiss the blond horizon now grasping her above the surface dawn’s fingertips will run through the dark sky A grinding screech on night’s chalkboard, awakens him madly from the ocean’s bubble another pang in the ears, drumming the head, cracks the throat to swallow his abused stomach into a molten ball of blue and purple plastic Only to be frozen… in the volatile ocean Then, again burst with fever over another’s microwaving words, re-heating his belly into an amethyst acrylic jelly from the pallet he’ll paste and splash into another pretty doll’s wanton... waving... abyssal face. |