Madness

A poem for an artist that I look up to

Goodbye van gogh, or hello

Though you walk no more

You do not fade

You can still walk

Or run or wade

Through our world in paint

In life some sit more comfortably

In sofas swaddled

Or in silk

But it is a man

Upon a cold hard stool

Which rocked and rocked

Who painted still

Imagine

Sitting there

As it totters turns and mocks

And yet he had the courage

To put on a painting smock

Until one day it rocked too much

A violent kick,

A smash

A roar

And there it lay upon the floor

And you got up and walked away

And though you rose from life

As we sit, we cannot help but stare

At the spot upon the floor

With scratch marks from your chair