deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Artist
"Find the poem in every person" ~ William Carlos Williams
He was quiet, with stone cold, observer eyes.
Face, set in stone, from time waves
of… Talking to no one -
Telling no lies.
I saw him one day, at the sink…
Crystalline waters -
Downward flow
Like icy daggers
of… Sorrow
Made serene
Liquid colors in the drain…
Swirling
Art is movement that stirs the soul.
I entered his sphere, with no fear
just fascination
Starting a conversation
with a question
in earnest
regarding the process, in this, environment of waste & no waste.
He immediately saw into my heart and soul
like stone meeting stone
He knew I was real.
And we became instant friends.
Walking the yard together and having conversations
over the stars & constellations.
He told me about getting attacked with a knife
while sitting on the toilet
having to fight
for life.
And his life was art.
He described the feeling he would get
Upon hearing the midnight train, in a pit
Of night, resonating within the fabric,
Dark and distant, becoming an ever distant relic
Reminding him of the freedom he would never see
Distant lands where he would never be, eternally,
Taking even, pieces of the air that he tried to breathe
Into darkness and distance that most cannot conceive.
He had never told anyone this poignant truth,
For all of the years that had taken his youth
And made of his face, an abandoned, monastic place,
A temple of meditation & art, manifested with meditative pace.
He never painted for others, in all these meditative years,
But when I told him about my father’s death, with no tears,
Just… Stone – He said he wanted to compose a work of art
For his friend, with each brush movement, from the heart.
They rode me out of the facility
before the work’s finality
and he looked at me...
Gaze stoney
Alive & Dead
Always alone – Never lonely
And said…
Give them hell… For me
And I…
Shook his hand
Published 11th Jul 2021
Author's Note
I initially thought of writing a piece about my dad, who has passed, to incorporate into the revelation of this painting; however, I was not seeing the wave form, then, I knew... I had to write about The Artist that created this work of art... I had a dream once, where, I was told to "tell our story"... This dream has remained with me and I have contemplated what I know it to mean.
Then... I saw the above quote, in a poem by one who channels magical energies, and that was my confirmation.
- O
Then... I saw the above quote, in a poem by one who channels magical energies, and that was my confirmation.
- O
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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The author encourages honest critique.
11th Jul 2021 9:06pm
11th Jul 2021 9:20pm
11th Jul 2021 11:14pm
Art is movement that stirs the soul.
That was stunning... I closed my eyes to see if that feeling of being in the sector of time... That is how I know if the musing I am listening to hit that intellect mark, in the same breath, I can hear the words form the heart and not the mind... Very nice... my poet.. take a moment and listen to you musing with your eyes closed.. its quite soothing....
That was stunning... I closed my eyes to see if that feeling of being in the sector of time... That is how I know if the musing I am listening to hit that intellect mark, in the same breath, I can hear the words form the heart and not the mind... Very nice... my poet.. take a moment and listen to you musing with your eyes closed.. its quite soothing....
12th Jul 2021 9:24am
I am deeply appreciative for your perspective on this piece, SKC. Thank you ever so much.
