after

i once walked
through graves,
tracing names
on tombstones
faded from sight.
i imagined
bones in boxes,
separated from
their souls, left
to wait for some
kind of return –
to ash? to dust?
or is there only
the shedding
of skin so spirits
can finally soar
somewhere
among the stars?

Advertisements

Lines

Much like poetry, I never quite know what the lines are going to mean when I’m painting. The end result is seldom what I start out creating, and I am usually more satisfied when I let my creativity take control. This painting is my first attempt at abstract drip painting.

Untitled. Acrylic on two 10×20 canvases.

Poetry or Paint?

I haven’t written much poetry over the last few months because I’m trying my hand at abstract art. I don’t have a clue what I’m doing, and maybe that’s why I’m enjoying it so much. In some ways, it is like my process of writing; I usually begin without knowing the end result. Sometimes it is garbage, but at other times something cool happens. For instance, I can stare at this untitled acrylic pour for a long time and still not see everything that’s there. It is somehow ethereal, cosmic, calming, and chaotic at the same time. Maybe then, it should be titled “Life”.

storm

the weight crushes
almost everything
except the dull ache
which swells slowly
to a roaring blast.
it rips the hinges
from the storm cellar,
winds its way deeper
down and finds you
in your darkness
searching for light.

** I have dealt with depression, and there is no shame if you have felt the same. Writing poetry is one way that has helped me navigate those feelings, but I also reached out to family, friends, a good counselor, and yes, medication has been a big help. Please reach out if you feel you are losing hope. Help is there. https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/