Painted in the Canvas

Just a thought!
Streaming through a sun swept field, Tethered ballerinas dancing in the wind
Waves of iridescent colors blow across a sea of refracted cotton candy.
Never a sweeter breeze, I could wisp it round a cone and taste it's allure.

As a choreographed ballet sways with balance and perfection, sunlight glistens

through silken shawls while a few lace ribbons float around with the wind.

Natures creations in full bloom, petals fluttering up a wind song as the breeze

whistles through bouquets of timeless beauty. Kneeling at the edge rows,

the wind rustles through my long silky hair; I become part of the symphony.

Immersed in this wondrous creation... I am forever, painted in the canvas.


by Barry Anderson


Author's Notes/Comments: 

#1Beauty in a field of flowers

 #2"You're always a part of the picture, sometimes needing a bigger one as you look back."




Be Little, Be Nice

It’s not you, it’s me;

an apology doused in insincerity.

5 words,

hold up your hand,

It’s the same shape I use to slap and brand.

To block out the sun, to not go blind.

To smile and wave, staying clandestine.  

To wear a suit to get a job,

three fingers gone

 part of a mob.

To cover my mouth

 loose woman, loose tongue;

you give me safety scissors and a water gun.

A tailcoat, feather boa plea.

Wailing jesters joke on one knee,

on a piss covered floor, the show goes on.

 Don’t tell anyone, slut, it was just for fun. 

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Beauty , Ballet and Boredom

Birmingham from New York
Ballet work

Two parallel rows of dancers
At the bar
With the teacher

At the head
Collective arms and legs

In contrast to the two rows
Of torsos
And the bars

Young lady
Behind the ballet
Yawned a
Big, round yawn.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is a found poem of a portion from the essay "A Philosophy of Photography and of Some Visual Art in General" by Rick Garlikov

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