Monthly Archives: September 2016

Vincent’s Lament (a rewrite)

(apologies for the redundant post, but I like this version better and wanted to share it)

You, rich off the back of

my frenzied labor. Auctioning me off

like those whores I painted.

At least they were up for an honest day’s work.

 

Wildflowers should be wild, you know.

Not withering on dorm room walls under

plastic pushpins and double-sided tape.

 

Where were you when I suffered?

Without a cent to pinch. No one to remove

the monstrous veil blurring my sanity.

But not even Theo. Nor Christ himself

could save me. The green faery

only taking me deeper into Hell.

The ringing in my brain. Relentless thoughts.

Blinding colors. Dizzying motion.

Visceral. Urgent. Competing their way

to the surface ‘till I could no longer breathe.

 

I was the slave of creation.

A little death in each stroke.

My pain, now your beauty. Enjoy it.

Vincent’s Retort

 

I see you,

Littering the earth with my constellations.

Yes, MY my dancing stars, not yours to hang

On tacky dorm room walls

With push-pins and double-sided tape.

 

And you,

Rich off the back of my frenzied labor.

Wildflowers should be wild you know,

Basking in the compassionate sun.

Not withering within your dank, pretentious walls.

 

You don’t know me.

With all your analysis,

And your theories,

And your feigned sympathy

For the cliché’d “tortured artist”.

You are so proud of yourselves.

 

But you have no idea.

I had nothing but the ringing in my brain.

The relentless thoughts,

The blinding colors,

The dizzying motion,

The visceral urgency,

All competing their way to the surface

‘Till I could no longer breathe.

 

I was the slave of creation,

A little death in each stroke.

My pain is now your beauty,

You’d better enjoy it.

Trudge

The black musty stench of it like decaying leaves

Left forgotten to rot on the forest floor

Bombards my senses yet again.

 

It is a pockmarked road,

Littered here and there with sharp obstacles

Like broken bricks just below the sinking surface.

 

I trudge through it slowly, barefoot,

Feeling its acrid slime rise up between my toes,

Sticking like tar and just as hard to remove.

 

Above me the sky is black to match the ground,

Blinding me in both directions.

Another day, another darkness.

Just Passing Through (Part 2)

On a train to somewhere

Jerking and stuttering on the track

Keeps me from a cluttered mind

Forgetting frustrations

But focused on the peace to come

 

Somewhere is a welcoming place

Freedom is the song of the day

And lightness of the true self

Shines brightly along the path

 

Nowhere was bleak and acrid

Full of doubt and hate

Thank the universe

I was just passing through