upon my naked canvas
i dare my colors out
to make a joyful noise
or passionate...to shout
I dare my brush
to answer thunders in my heart
or tremulous to tease its dainty pastel part
is my soul not humble
dare I spout its part
on the canvas bare and friendless
no stain upon its face
as I stare into its eyes, before my brush can trace
the telling truth of jaw line, the burdened bushy brow, the honor of its
eyes, the arc of nostril flaring
the curves that frame its smile
my brush undaunted dances daring,
jabs and strokes surging, and mocks
the tremors in my fingers
wearing doubts that ache my heart
urging peace and battles better
before I even start |
stark i stand before my canvas
its acres ache and moan
will my brush strokes carry
the dreams that lead me home
or shattered will they limp and wheeze
stumbled down to bony knees
the artists partner chokes and flees
or finding lightning soar and please
i stain and sputter visions
they dance and leap and cry
all to match these muttered fictions
in changing game your inner eye
i never stand so naked
i never reach so far
as when i offer visions
to take you to my star
the artist aims and falters
the artist carries home
each striving inch to launch us
beyond the paler drone
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