Brushstrokes

Lots of happenings, all combined? I guess, yes.

Too much in all of this a sense of calm, dilution, between the whorls of fingerprints 

left on windowpanes, outside where the world turns and flows much like the time 

we travelled the length of the Kaikoura coast, anxiously waiting for the spume 

of whales to breach air and daylight. You told me I should never break 

Unless I mean it in all dimensions: the physical, the emotional, 

the immaterial, all in sullen blue, with streaks of marigold, ground shellac 

and varnish our landscape and easel, one I would paint your body with 

until nothing else glows and nothing else is the same because 

This destination always becomes a well-worn pair of jeans, a faded buckle, 

the taste of cinnamon and cloves scraping the air. You, scattered yet motherly, 

moon and ova, the penumbra and corona where soil and water meet, where 

traces of sky and fire is our only escape, where hemispheres clash 

And destroy what is left 

of winter leaving this canvas. 

Reviews

[Lydia]

This blows my mind. It's so descriptive in a way that doesn't leave you with a certain picture or image, but rather like the title, it is a story painted in brushstrokes that is not the easiest to visualize or even comprehend. I really enjoyed this piece. The flow of it is like the ocean, completely natural, and I appreciate finding that in poetry.

[Ken Simm.]

Wonderful, sad, creative, reaching, affirming, yes, affirming, painterly, coloured darkly and ultimately and in parts beautifully composed.

[Leslie Philibert]

a very good poem, visual yet introspective, full of imagery that works togther, anecdotal yet universal, full of carefully picked metaphors - written with care and talent, great job.

[Emily B]

these are the best kind of words to come back to, a pilgrimage of sorts to beauty

[junaid altaf]

it is simply amazing!

[mikl paul]

such a breath of fresh air to find this. this is truly excellent.

[OTownPete]

I now move on with the taste of cinnamon and cloves on my tongue and vivid images roaming my mind.

[Fabian G. Franklin]

This was beautiful...I could go swimming in it. It's like ocean waves washing over me...

[John]

You have a painter's eye and a poet's sensibility.

[emmajoy]

These words fell out of the sky and onto your artist's heart, seeing love draped in ever changing colours .. beautiful. Complete reality left to to dwindle kindly ..

[emmajoy]

Hope to read more, now. Three years has passed and time -- wrapped in all its colours and shapes, still ticks on..