Saturday, November 07, 2009


My painting invested
with four months of life
oil colors on canvas three feet wide
interpreting the artists’ studio

The room burnished
with earthen colors
the ceiling high and wide
represented as a clear blue sky
with clouds of varying shades
from white to grey

Using colors to reveal my feelings
inspired by my master
investigating my strengths through
his wisdom, usurping his vision

How do you get this effect or that
Make a cloud look billowy and soft
Train your hand to make an image
and still relay your feelings with
training, craft and skill?

While I shyly bowed my head, the master
declared my work showed great strides,
my growth in perspective was a triumph for him
He was astonished how I used
colors to accomplish these effects

Four months, three hours a day,
two days a week I slaved

to nurture my untrained abilities
to complete my still life

My lover was fascinated by the color,
the depth, the room where the ceiling
became a sky with no limit,
the inner space that stretched
to meet the cosmos of time

Please, my lover begged me
Give me that work that is so fine
that piece of you, your mind,
that inner space that I can claim is mine

Please give me that work that is so fine
in which you invested great
quantities of self and time
I gave him my work of art
because I believed he loved me

There came the day I stood outside his door
found that he had gone away
I stood pondering and saw nothing amiss
Then suddenly I looked up and saw

Atop the lamp post that stood outside
his door, my cherished work of art,
its insides crushed and torn,
the lamp post protruding through my blue sky,
my grey white clouds, my heart

Alas, another sad true story by Joy © 1998