weight

Painting Nudes'

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Just a thought!

Someone ask me to paint them nude...

I said sure, send me a head shot

with age , weight and tatoo placement.

She said wait, she wanted a "nude portrait."

I said well, the head shot gives me hair, skin

and eye color, the age tells me how many

wrinkles, weight is how big to make your butt,

Tatoos tell me where to mark out reality,

The rest is pretty much universal.

She said, "But what if I don't want a bush?"

I said, "Honey, you'll have to take care of

that yourself, I'm just the painter!"...

Author's Notes/Comments: 

"Painting Nudes"

The Great Golden Smile

All those tiny paper-thin slices of it

Horizontal

Hanging

Up and down and caving and expanding and coloring and clotting and 0’ing and 1’ing 

Electric-atom spinners

Asphalt spitting it out and up 

again and again and again

 

Fool (us or tricked)

Proof (of anything or John Nash with an infinite-ink-marker and a heaven of windows)

Pyro (in backyards across America on-a-day or chest-against-chest-heart language)

Maniac (mirrors or common-speak-for-hue undetectable as of current instruments available)

Swallow (bird or gulp-(only nervous though always))

 

It is pulled out.

 

picked at,

nudged, 

heated to correct temperature,

sent,

spent,

signed,

sifted, 

mangled,

assembled,

struck,

caressed,

tapped,

conjured,

 

It is put in.

 

And so in (and also is) the circle

King of the Stick Figures

Queen of Immense-Black and Trembling-White

Valorous Posture

Of the both

In the one

Let it slowly close

Pace=sunny day building shadows from 9:00 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. viewed from the same dusty bench 

 

Until circle becomes single point

And there is no words

And there are no sounds

 

And it holds the weight

And All is enveloped in The Great Golden Smile
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The Gifts

For with every glistening speck of wisdom,

That will shine upon the lapels of your bodice,

Adorning your gracious and bountiful bosom,

So too, will you carry the weight of it's worth,

For as we taste the nectar of life's tomorrows,

We will surely even the scales for our mirth.

 

 

4:46 PM 6/24/2013 ©

 

 

 

...

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Everything always gets back to balancing the scales within us.

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I've Stumbled

I’ve stumbled Lord on to my knees
Where I belong voluntarily
But since I’m here I need to pray
Lord please help me find my children who have gone astray….
My husband now stays late- at a job he claims to hate
He does not love me the same – ever since I’ve gained weight….

Lord I know I ignored you when times were good
And did not pray the way I should

But please forgive me of my sins
And in my life please come back in…

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Is a powerful piece about a woman who forgets about Christ when things were good in her life. When things begin to fall apart, she stumbles upon her knees where she begins to pray. A perfect reminder that it is Christ who is keeping things together in our lives.

"Hungry"

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My Work

“Gaze into faces,
get behind eyes.
From so many places,
fed so many lies.
All satiated,
starving for more.
Emaciated,
nauseating encore.
Imbalanced, heavy scales,
bearing unjust weight,
all who would reign must fail,
policy is bait.
Only one more swallow,
deep, filthy well.
Thirst always follows,
hunger’s dinner bell.
And, so we take the mark,
clones stamped in red;
sheep left in the dark,
bones, bleached and bled.
But, still I will rage
defying gravity;
incarcerated in this cage,
I choose to be free.
For I will not surrender,
I will not kneel,
to the Great Pretenders,
serving the next meal."

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Politics, anyone?

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