Irritation and the Writing Process

Talking to myself while writing a poem. Now if only this place supported the neat fonts and effects I had on the original.

I see life in color and darkness

a splash of red

a twinkling of blue

the rest

varying shades of gray

I skritch at the paper

with my charcoals and pastels

suffering from

mental blue balls

ooh! that's a good line.

keep it.

Damn you

You who spit out future Da Vinci's

with careless ease

Damn you

You who shape rock, clay, and wood

finding the shining beauty hidden deep within

And you know what

F**K YOU

You who spend five minutes spattering paint

retching up a garish glaring mess of horridness

and call it ART

a little angry.

do you need the cursing?

...

yes.

I can't sketch a straight line with a ruler

My stick figures are indecipherable

I have no talent but HERE

no way to show the shining colors

the engulfing shadows

that fill my mind

that might need some work.

And so

throwing the charcoals away

throwing the pastels away

the skritching changes

a pencil on lined paper

painting in my own way

searching

for words

for colors

for which

there are

no words

getting better.

A red too square for blue

A green just this side of being light

you're probably going to lose someone.

or maybe not.

Describing SHAPES that aren't shapes

Form and color and emotion

reduced

to dictionary meaning

trapped

stuffed

mounted

and put up on the mantel

to be dusted on occasion

its glass eye imploring

begging to be set free

and once again

roam

the prairies

savannas

mountains

and valleys

of the idea

of itself

perfect.

take a bow.

fin.

Reviews

[Misa]

....
this, to me, describes almost perfectly what writing can be like at times. frustrating, but sometimes rewarding like no other.
the way you used spacing and contradicting descriptions to show just what you mean - that you can go beyond with writing what visual art can do - worked out perfectly, for me. love teh rhythm. several lines stood out as being wickedly unique, but my favorite would've been
searching

for words

for colors

for which

there are

no words

(you kno whwat one l mean). added a visual aspect to the poem that took it one step farther.
nice.
~Misafish