Life is beautiful, or so they say,
poetry in motion; he could only
play along amidst the throng,
imitating the art around him;
an æsthete desperate for a
glimpse through the framed
roses; a forger cutting paint
with turpentine, diluting
delusions to bear the greyscale
that taints his perception; he
can only see a masterpiece in
what could be, the potential
pentimenti when his eyes close
and his mind is free from the
onslaught of this garish reality;
painting with words in the dark,
his impression of what abounds;
an oeuvre of fantasies, a gallery
of escape, beauty in the still life of
half-eaten apples and candles spent
art: The Disillusioned One by Ferdinand Hodler
Beautifully worded.
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Thanks so much
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You’re welcome☺
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I Love this!!!!
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Thank you, Susan 🙂
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fine job/ a pleasure, really.
g.r.
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I appreciate that, thank you
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You have painted an aesthetic picture.
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🤓
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This is so lovely, very nicely done.
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Thank you (:
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Very well written. I especially enjoy the structure of the poem.
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Thank you
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