The Battle of the Painter

Screaming questions on oracle bones,

Rattle and chatter,

Like teeth in an ignorant head,

A future in the cracks,

Absorb omnipotent whispers,

A paranormal future,

Medicine for mortal veins,

A revolution of rebel soil,

A fire in the bellies,

Of the groundling's slaves,

Spreads and grows,

In flooding hues,

And overtakes an illiterate military,

The star-dust,

In threads,

Hangs about their necks,

Branding them the veterans,

Of art's eternal war,

The vessels,

The voice,

For their oracle bones.

Reviews

[Angelheaded Hipster]

This has a New Orleans voodoo vibe to it...Im not a painter, but I would imagine staring at a blank canvas could be a bit like this.

Is the stardust the inspiration needed to paint the canvas? Or is it something that's held within the dust?

This piece makes me think. Thank you for the read.

[.]

poets are painters
words as colors
forms for brushes
your ear their canvas

painters are poets
shades as sounds
hues for voices
your eye their page

enough said I think

ok, it does have a New Orleans feel...I know

[Coyote Poetry]

I like this poem a lot. You write with a experience pen. The story was very strong and told a complete story in so few words. So many lines I likes in this poem. I would want to read again.
Coyote

[Little Blue]

Thank you. You are very kind. The star dust is more the prize of a finished painting there fore making the painter a veteran. It is more the prideful glow of an artist who has finished a long project.