inspiration

Darkness/Nourish/Reflect

In the darkness

there is magic. 

Just as the night

shrouds the mundane

in mystery

the darkened soul

shelters the muse

and nourishes the spark

of inspiration. 

For most

this place

is a misery.

For the artist

it is a studio

they fear to leave

even as it kills

their humanity. 

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…and then the moment is gone

Art
begets
art.
The creative juices
never flow more freely
than they do
after exposure
to someone else
art.
But
it must be great
art.
Art that inspires
must be
just
out
of
reach.
Our arms stretching up
we both reach for
and supplicate ourselves
to it.
In return
our mind opens
and we receive
the gift,
the spark
of new inspiration
and insight…
if only
for a moment.

The clouds can wait.

I shot a glance
out of my bedroom window
at the thick clouds
of evening,
and I said,
“Wow,
those paintings
belong
in a cloud….”
It took a moment
but I reflectivity corrected
myself.
“Those clouds
belong in
a painting….”
But I had been right
the first time:
It is the paintings
that we love
that need to be
soaring over our world
and reminding us
of their presence
in our lives.
The clouds
can wait.

Bitter Hands

I am looking for

my

black.

I may have written it

already.

I don’t know.

I have written so much,

in the past

(more than can be

imagined),

so it’s possible

that it already has happened

and no one will ever know.

 

I think

that what i want

is to write

someone elses

black.

I realize

how self-centered

this is.

I have been so moved

so many times

by awesome talents,

is it too much to ask

that i help move

someone else?