My latest pastel work. I am suddenly quite excited about my home grown Dahlia’s. I am not really one for still life work. However I have a distinct lack of material to work with that I find a challenge and of interest. I think I shall be doing some more. Time to get cutting and arranging and then drawing.
The Waters showing how they have broken.
Seeing slaughtered the mind with its absence.
Runnels of blood from the mouths that have spoken.
Crushing out life, like washing an abcess.
A glass half full is a glass half emptied.
The seer’s crying, weeping while soaring.
Spotted on high those low flying diverse
madnesses sweep across open Oceans.
Budhist mobs? Baying, praying for murder.
Have we not all of us, been this mistaken?
Empty belief, beggars the believers.
Heresy, I’ve said heresy! Ah Men?
The world stands with exascerbated breath.
Good will fails, exasperated with death.
Good for nowt, piss sodden, crapulent rat.
Wins again! A proper winner indeed.
Meow meow he went, kicking the cat.
Punching the chicken until his nose bleeds.
Sodden the matress, and he’s sodden the seats.
Puddled in mind laying damp on the floor.
Twice on the sofa and the shoes on his feet.
Robin you blind, forever wanting for more.
And more. Steal from the rich, give to the poor
addict. Mummy happy to be feeding
the habit. Yet still shouting, You Whore!
YOU BITCH! You know how sick she’s feeling?
Yet she loves you still, suffering and silent.
Forgiving you, even though you are violent.