Hey everyone, I’m behind schedule so here’s a poem I wrote a while ago!
Time and Matisse
I have found it easiest to watch time pass
as a fly on a wall, or a bird in a cage,
where you can see life in full color
slowly trickle away in a watery ocean.
Like a bleeding Renaissance canvas
where chapels were defined by their ceilings,
and painters by their attention to detail.
So simple, so fine, so real, so definite.
But as with many aged men, blurred lines
infect the day to day life, until a grainstack
at sunset might look more like a mountain
than ingredients to a meal.
Until finally, wheeling about from bed to chair,
one can hardly define where buildings start or end.
The once crystal clear canvases are thickly spackled
with the silhouettes of cut-out figurines
falling through paper starlight.
Around then the fly will depart,
and the empty-eyed birds will stop singing
while the last of the colors drift out the window
in an unforgettable breeze of vivid imagination.
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