Pastels

Standard

The brittle blocks,

Seemed alien first,

Until you pulled them from the box,

Rubbed them on and smeared them in.

With some care and consideration,

And some practice and precision,

Whatever you’re working on,

Will look fuzzy and faded in.

The color binds to the blank space,

In whatever shape you’ve traced,

Wherever it’s been placed.

The mark of a good artist,

Is not the figure on the paper,

But the dark marks on their fingertips,

And passion that sometimes tapers,

But never disappears.

Keep fingerpainting,

But keep from scribble-sniveling,

How easy it is to make drivel,

How easy it was to be Picasso,

Or Van Gogh,

Or Michelangelo,

When you were little.

Kaleidoscope

Standard

image
Selfish is the radiance-hoarder,

Unbounded bouncing element resonates,

Through the sphere of the sunshine recorder,

Upon its crux the particle detonates.

Lucid luminescence has primal appeal,

In a world of constant flux,

Like an old zoetrope, spinning like a pinwheel,

Unfettered, unfocused, a coliseum of lux.

A balance must be struck between the two reciprocals,

A cavalcade of color that leaves an impression,

A spectral speckle spectacle; a rainbow flicker-festival,

A kaleidoscope held up to your eye for another session.