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george glass Dec 2015
A man once told me
He felt as if he had created me
From scratch, a muse
Conceived by invention,
Rather than the precision of my blood
or the tiny cosmos within my marrow;
He was mine,
But did not belong to me

The path of sirendom
Is paved with gilded lilies,
Soft flesh, and quiet angles
If you let them,
You can drift on through
Your feet hovering three inches above the soil
Saturated ripe with fertility,
Easier than breathing

But there will always be
At least nine of you
In every patch of every field
Preserved in light
The quicksand of reason, immortalized
Delicate whispers convince you
What a lovely work of artistry
An inspiration, the birth of genius
But you are only the vessel
Left empty

But I have never
Belonged to anyone,
No square of grass
Lush enough to rest my head
on a practiced lap
I was not an island to discover;
Sprung from beneath the Mariana,
I was built from the deep place
No pedestal to extend
The unhinge of my reaching arms

I took the long way up
Scratching through earth, long dead
No fruit, carefully arranged
No marble, heavily lidded
The flowers collapsed,
Like your idea of Woman,
To linseed stain
A smashed sunrise
It wasn’t god, but myself
That I met on the other side
Sylvia Weld Apr 2013
on a rainy day your body spread over a picnic table
like an egg yolk, and you swallowed the word profound
again and again.
someone from your past
has gone beneath the ocean, leafless
and you can hear the wailing from here to the saginaw
people begin to breathe blood: they’re choking up, soughing
“be easy buddy” and
“he wanted a black eye for prom so i punched him in the face”
flowers arrived at the door, a ghost, an ear of corn
while everything yearned tall: frames, shadows,
in st. louis you circle a bit of claret earth
spotting your sister’s face in the mirror, leaving linseed and shreds
i could never ask how you are.
the wail is a train whistle, i hear it pauses
for no softness of flesh, these midwestern daughters
she loved all living things.
imagine carefully painting a boat
a pencil in your teeth,
cutting through earth, the nantucket sound
you’re going to take your boat beyond
this firmament, you know, we’re all
waiting through this salty crush
sinking below a winter current
this is all yours now:
mainsail, rudder, hard-a-lee
you darling masters of the sea.

for PW and LE. goodnight.
gravelbar Jun 2012
How is it three years, and I still have the same dreams?
Can you explain that to me, lovely sparrow?
Clutching olive branch and yew bark
Grabbing in the dark for cold water, sweating down the glass
Bitter chlorine and calcium built up on the face
Mineral finger-paints, broken down with linseed oil and worn palms
Your eyes behind those old glasses, working clay on the wheel
Such pride in glazed pots collecting rain on the patio
Paving stones laid in sand, the last few crooked on account of the cervesa
Dry in the mouth like panting dogs, deadweight collapsed on threadbare carpet
How do we convince ourselves that it is desirable to be alone?
I hold you in my arms in a dream, whoever you are
Pulling all the strands out of a wicker basket, creating uselessness
Chattering keys on a laptop like shivering teeth
Coughing, faceless, men, the embodiment of misery in this night
The most beautiful pair of eyes I've ever seen, what other secrets lie beneath
that hijab?
Just a passing glance, most of the people we see, we will never see again
How is it some make such a profound impression with nothing more than a
smile?
Lying under the Joshua tree, surrounded by dirt roads leading nowhere in particular
Warm water mingles with the sweat on your lip
A sigh that send chills through me
The restless wind, nothing more
Joseph Rogerson Mar 2013
This is for those hemp clad allotment dwelling new-age professionals,
riding the crest of an organic wine wave,
with heads tilted so far back,
showing off their vanilla white, Dulux painted nostril showroom.

11am, it's not too early,
community centre trip,
twisting and stretching,
kneading and rolling eighteen-month old Oscar into a morally righteous,
gluten-free,
linseed loaf of faux intelligensia.

Tofu and thai veg stirfry please,
healthy and nutriousness,
Nah!
it's greasy and delicious.
Cultured, not truly,
it's Anglicized cuisine really.

Less like a political activist,
more like the organic bourgeoisie.
corbin sweeny Oct 2019
If you came home, every night
with the smell of oil paints wrapped up in your hair
and turpentine
and linseed linseed linseed oil
I would never have to move again
transported
to the place where it all begins

I don’t need to see
what you’ve created
I already know it,
I see the sparks jump from
tree to tree
this is how the world is set on fire
looking down into my palms
there is a glow
that I had forgotten about
until you brought your smell
into my home

led on by this
against the vale of shade
one person sees and says:
good luck with that! you’ll be eaten alive!
Who do you think you’re kidding?

The next one says:
we are born to suffer, born to die
the ocean wave is just too large
swim brave swimmer, and I feel for you
but against this tide there is no
homecoming to be had-

and the last one sees
the glowing shine of my outstretched hands
making my face an open book
showing just one step or two, and no more than that,
and says:
Is this Light? It must be Light!
The Darkness was a lie after all!
She shrugs her way out
from beneath the oldest cloak
she opens the gate
that doesn’t shut again
and looking down
her hands come to life and light her eyes

jumping quickly tree to tree
unnoticed by most, beneath their load
the spark runs fast
and you hear laughter
as against all habit
the sleepy world is set on fire again
JM Jul 2014
Supine, wrapped in scarlet,
only eye open, third.

I create her skin, flawless and golden;
her hair becomes the color of midnight
on the ocean,
blood at night.

Suspended, bound in purple,
capitulation, freedom.

These lonely visions, they are cobblestones in my twisted path of memories both past and future, overgrown with weeds of time and worn around the edges; an uneven course winding in and around and back again, with branches, heavy and black,
so black,
on all sides.

Where are you, dearest?

I smell acrylics and oils and linseed
and the windows are open; traffic hums on the hill and your brow is furrowed as your brush caresses the canvas, each stroke, love manifest.

Later, you will sing for me

Fluid, mercurial, she sings and paints
and broods
and pouts
and wipes her cheek with her thumb, smearing alizarin crimson on her pixie face.


Time stops at her beauty

The moment falls into my guts, burrowing into
my insides forever;
the plants by the window,
the deep red smear on my angel,
the sound of camelhair hitting canvas, forever mine now
to cherish and carry
with me as I trudge this
desolate and dreary landscape.

*When I come home,
you will sing for me
Cry Sebastian Jan 2010
Trying to capture a moment, but the moments ever changing.

I paint in oils
-oils outlive my mortality
-oils extend my message
oils prolong my life after death.
It's a gamble because anything could wrong when I'm not there to care for it.

7am:
So I start by sitting in front of a huge blank canvas.

7:05am:
So I start by sitting with a mirror in my hand.

7:30am
The canvas is intimidating.

9am
My mind tries to capture the final product
- composition,
style,
toned down?
bright colours?
thick smears of paint?
hyper realistic?
or make it an abstraction from reality?

11am
I half-fill a jar with turpentine to clean my brushes.
I fill a small jar there with linseed oil to thin the paint.

11:05am
On my palette
-a small squish of cobalt blue
-proceed on thinning it.

11.10am
Lift brush,
dab it into the paint...
almost reach the canvas.

11:15am
I study my face to see where I'll start.

3:15pm

4 hours pass.
The sun has moved.
The shadows are softer
and the shadows longer.

Accurate painting is not about talent as much as observational skills-
thats why you can stop for years but if you have learnt the art of seeing you will be able to paint a more realistic picture than when you quit the previous time.

7pm
All my contemplation sees the sunset
without a stroke being applied.

I flick a switch and a new light appears-
harsher with darker shadows-
it doesnt allow the paints show their true colours
but at least it is consistent.
I don't like what I see in this light.

Days have passed me in front of this mountain-
when I started it was sheer will that got me here-
not because I want to
but because I know I can paint better than most a
nd some will think it's worth something-
might  make a bit of extra cash on the side.

When I was younger I pumped out canvasses faster than toilet paper
but now I dont know Wonder Boy anymore-
too much distance between now and then.

Out of sheer impatience I decide to put a wash over it. I mix a bright orange mixture. and start brushing the canvas-
the brush is too slow so I start pouring it out of it's linseed mixture bowl straight onto the canvass and rub it with a cloth until no more white can be seen.

I hate the result-
my compulsion led me to trade a white blank canvas
for an orange one-
I'm nowhere closer to coming up with an idea than when I started and now I have to wait two days for the paint to dry. By that time I would have aged two days and my resolve might not be what it is right now- the little I have left.

So the final result of my painting-
a blank orange canvas hiding behind my bedroom closet.
ju Oct 2011
I pull the sweater further down my thighs.
Fabric bunched in my fist keeps the hem tight,

Stops it gaping as I lean, cold feet pressed to his shins,
inhaling steam from thick-as-mud coffee.

Would like to rearrange myself ‘round the warmth of him-
tangle my fingers in his hair.

Clamber into a linseed oil and white spirit scented nest.

But now’s not the time.
Distance is key.

I drink coffee, mind my hem ‘til he’s ready to draw.


muse
I have no purpose any more.
I’m a painter who’s gone blind
And a singer who’s gone deaf.
There is no call for what I sell.

I still daub colors on a board
To smell the Linseed Oil again
I hear the music in my head
And mouth the words in silence.

There is no surgery or cure,
What’s gone is lost forever.
And I must find a way to live
In silent darkness, if I can.
              ljm
Another of those dreary tomes I wrote when I was depressed. I'm better now.
nicholas ripley Mar 2010
the languid liquidity of linseed-eased pigment
as the bow of brush stroke sweeps a new hue
over the layer of vermilion,
this feel of silken resistance,
this quality of vividity,
this aroma that countless painters encounter
whilst abstracting sunflower or sunset
is what gives pleasure to my paint.
Copyright Nicholas Ripley, 2009, from the book Factors of Cultural Production, produced after my Artist in Residency at the Herbert Art Gallery.
kfaye Aug 2012
will you
place my face on shelf of trinkets meant to startle you.
paper momentos. and
pewter figurines.
think twice,
or look over your shoulder one more time before you turn to step away
from this

kami-caress-
soul siphoning
season.
or toss me with a
splash into a fountain. meant to splatter up droplets-
black as succulent stag bone bowels.
rinsed over
maidens.
wearing porcelain faces and bedtime.
-rising like a timid ghost from me

in
this
straitlaced summer.
spiced red water.
linseed lull.
easy,

tame hands
can strangle too

turning to indian summer,
turning to the crisp
cool
autumn.
turning
my body to

wet
sinewy
earth
I have no purpose any more.
I’m a painter who’s gone blind
And a singer who’s gone deaf.
There is no call for what I sell.

I still daub colors on a board
To smell the Linseed Oil again
I hear the music in my head
And mouth the words in silence.

There is no surgery or cure,
What’s gone is lost forever.
And I must find a way to live
In silent darkness, if I can.
ljm
Retirement will never be for me.  Even a short break is painful.
burgundy tshirt Mar 2015
Life's colors exist in red, yellow, and blue, an unaffordable simplicity existing only on the gray wax paper taped to my pallet. My hands are sweaty underneath my gloves, slick with linseed and paint. Leaves fall and stick to the surface of artificial canvas smeared with the tracks of pigment on my brush.
There I dance, grass caressing my bare feet, hair guided by the gentle breath of wind. An improvisation of ultramarine and alizarin crimson and titanium white, time transcends, though the shadows move. In this moment, nothing else matters except for the performance of light, color, motion.
different style of poetry.
3.12.15
Martin Narrod Dec 2016
Dubious: charge
The deluxe program in. Obtuse angled and oblong animals. Mecca sexúal, discoverer pulling back the curtain tails in mimicry and peacockiness as the horizon shimmers itself out. Do not eschew unwieldy ostentation towards benign mid-weight colors in the sequel to Blahnik.

Offers in the hesitant, peak winds of Southern-Hemispherical Antarctic weather barometer losses. The ice is like a hive of nameless blue lily pad vessels, each a different magical shade of the water's blue.

She like the uncommon baroque grandeur in an hour of time, herself-

Summons the immense symmetry of her elaborate lavender macramès sheath and entomb her skin, exploding across her body like milk-white daffodils draped upon a morning  bow. Linseed and anise encompasses burnt sweet grass on the breadth of pine in a gentle pillow, anchored only by the veins of her red fruit nectar stitched at the grooves in her cool and unpunctuated lips. While anxiety numbing tufts of gentle satins wisp all the worry and turmoil away, pleasing every nerve, sensor, instinct, and exercise of glib humanity intertwined amid the pulse of our uncensored adultness. She glides amid the arcs of ebullient-molecules ribboned in winter synonyms, summoned up in her sensual and illustrious sublime, and the story of how like a horizon muted by organzas falling beneath her into that relationship she carries with her water God into something profound, immense, and totally ******* exquisite, yet beyond all imagining, she is always doing what has been the coolest **** ever to me. That becomes more magnificently indescribable like our amorous fire, incentivizing the luminous beauty of new stars to rush above us, and yet under us too, amidst the simple and perfected automany she so awesomely imbues.

Until the minutes are silenced in our heads and the days are warm with you.

For Sarah
Yitkbel Jun 2018
You are everywhere I go

And everything I do

You're in my dreams

Of course, that's a given

And as I am painting

I find you within every brushstroke

Thin lines of memories

In every color and every hue

Drenching the canvas in

Deep saturations

I can never wipe away with

The cloth of time



And when completed

Whatever it is that I have painted

They form an everlasting

Yet ever changing image of you



As the scent of linseed

Catches me in a deeper reverie

I was brought to Paris

Brought to a world with you that

May never exist and will never exist

Yet feels so real and hopeful



I see days of innocent bliss

Within the highlight of the forms

And my deepest sorrow in the shadows

Of When I have lost you completely

To my wearisome persistence



Still as the paint dried

All my words, all of my love

Will have been cemented into

A masterpiece of you



And it will not be the end of it

The end of my affections

And manifestation of it

For from dust to dust

I will keep on

Preserving and protecting

My undying, and ever more

Wiser love for

You



For

You are my color,

The oil that binds every pigment

The canvas onto which

I can express all my emotions

Hopes and dreams

You are the brush that

Paints my soul so perfectly

The varnish that makes it complete

The frame that puts it altogether

The nail I will never leave

And in the twinges that seem to

Spread out and bind my heart

Whenever I think of you

You are every thread woven into

My every breath of life
Johnny Noiπ Jul 2018
climacteric/ klīˈmaktərik,/ˌklīmakˈterik
climatérico:  Definitions of climacteric
noun:              a critical period or event;
the first major climacteric
                 in twenty-first      century poetry
adjective:            having extreme
                      and far-reaching implications                         or results;
                      critical:
Britain                     must possess so climacteric
                                  a weapon in order to deter
an atomically armed enemy
Synonyms:                noun:                   menopause, change of life
Examples
Again, the results revealed
  no significant differences               in climacteric symptoms
  or well-being between the groups.
In climacteric fruits such as peaches and tomato,
              ripening is associated with a characteristic       burst
              of respiration which correlates
              with an increase in ethylene production:
Lock starts the chapter           with an interesting
historical review of the emergence
of the female climacteric   or menopause
in medical and psychoanalytic discourse;
The fact that such a climacteric
                 event of our history is not being taught
                                                       is disconcerting:
Conflicting results have been reported during the ripening of climacteric fruits after harvest:                        menopause / ˈmenəˌpôz
menopausia
Definitions of menopause
noun:                 the ceasing of *******;
Menstrual cycles
                          can occur without ovulation
  taking place as the menopause approaches;
Synonyms:                 noun
climacteric, change of life
The hot flushes and the night sweats
              have been worse than when I was just through natural menopause;
Loss of muscle increases six-fold at the time
of the menopause                so it may have a connection
with estrogen;                      I wondered if I was starting menopause,
                        but decided that I was too young;
                        In women after the menopause,
                        the lack of oestrogen can lead
to a weakening of the muscles associated
       with the bladder and the urethral sphincter [
****
slət
puta
Definitions of ****
noun:                  a woman who has many casual ****** partners.
"People think I'm just a **** having *** on screen
  but I did it to jump              start my career," she adds in the Express.
synonyms: promiscuous woman,
*******, *****, ****, ******,
                         *****, ******, hustler, scarlet woman,
loose woman, *****, trollop, harlot, strumpet, wanton
a woman with low standards of cleanliness.
Although she was handsome
in a blowsy way,                               she was a ****,
with                    holes in her stockings and grubby bra          straps:
Synonyms:                              noun:­                 promiscuous woman,
*******, *****, ****, ******, *****,
         ******, hustler,              scarlet woman, loose woman, *****, trollop,
                harlot, strumpet, wanton
slovenly woman,   slattern, trollop
fornicatress, jade, loose woman,
                             adulteress, *****, trollop, strumpet
Her holes moved her from ingenue to **** |
spinster to "the first lady of fright."
She is introduced as a dim oversexed
**** who works as a beauty parlor pedicurist;
Although she's handsome in a blowsy way,
she's such a **** , with holes in her stockings
and grubby straps showing;
Can she have *** without losing all control &
being branded a ****? I wasn't a **** in high school,
but if I had stuck around my small town after graduation,
I would have become one;
"People think I'm just a **** having *** on screen
but I do it to promote my career," she adds in the Express.
You're dressing like a ****;
Ultimately, however, the poet objects
far less to her supposedly natural feminine
sluttishness than to her apparently
unnatural intellectual pursuits;
There was a feeling of slight sluttishness to all this,
though - normally I'd only register
with one or two recruitment agencies;
Why should I just sit back and let those
sluttish women flirt and ***** him?
The utter badness, naughtiness and sluttishness
of these beauties make them more forbidden
than hedgehog abuse;
The second DVD focuses mainly
on the ‘social’ disease side of sin and sluttishness,
with a sampling of              drug addiction horrors
thrown in  to cover all the illegal good times;
You left me after my father died,
                  for arrogant jocks and sluttish girls;
Come on, support your sisters, don't talk about
being ***** and ******!
Women are already viewed as stupid, juvenile,
sluttish, brash, ******, and more often than not,
willing to trade their virtue for a hundred francs;
   The Greek lords await Hector's arrival to fight
with Ajax:        when Diomedes brings Cressida,
they each try to kiss her in turn,                
                     though she refuses
Menelaus and also Ulysses,
who after her departure
  accuses her of sluttishness -
'What aspect of my behavior
could have been more sluttish?'
If you look at those who are
                 successful in the tabloid business,
                day in, day out, they're called fat,
ugly, slappers &     *****;
But t[                  ]here's also
                                      the obligatory nice hot fantasy chick
(Jennifer Morrison)      who's meant to balance out the film's
  otherwise                      truthful                       ­   depictions of women as *****,
                  leeches and psychopaths.
When engaged                     in conversation with a ****,
certain                                                  sluttis­h cues bubble to the surface;
Girls still    can be labeled *****            if they're
  [sexually free (?)]   ,
whereas boys aren't.
And, just for the record,
                 when I was that age            , neither I
                 (alas) nor anyone I knew was getting
                 any at the rate purported            by the *****
                 in this movie b/c we were ugly;
Smokers and childless women are known
        to get together                    during the menopause
        of  the younger                  aged      women;
After menopause                  the ovaries produce
lower levels of the hormones
estrogen and progesterone; but healthy
            women still like to ****;
            Some view the menopause as a
            significant stage in ageing-
            Smoking can cause infertility
            and an early menopause                    [in women] & who else?,                  
                                  and ***** problems  
      | in men [again, who else has *****?];
  ***** drinking & hanging on the corner
     Every woman who has periods will go
     through menopause           at some time in her life,
                        usually between the ages of 42 and 58;          typically long after her sluttiest years     [mid-college &       through           her 20's]
Menstrual cycles can occur
without ovulation taking place
as [                ]      menopause approaches;
Nearly 24 million North American
              women  are in menopause
              at one time;      
for           years &               the vast majority of them gain
weight over time:
                              The roots & rhizomes
                              are widely used in the treatment
of menopausal symptoms                     & menstrual
                              dysfunction;
Five trials   with a total of 400    participants studied the effects
of red clover on menopausal symptom :.
  Other reported menopausal symptoms                 include hot flashes,
                           night sweats, insomnia,
headaches,
obesity      and general pissiness;
Dietary phytoestrogens, found in soybeans
and linseed        are thought to help relieve
vasomotor menopausal symptoms. [
As a senescing hormone,             it promotes leaf-yellowing,
climacteric fruit ripening,                              flower and leaf abscission.
The destruction of the Babri Masjid
was an important climacteric
                             in the decline of the administration;
By contrast, Dickens's second protagonist,
Oliver Twist, experiences what seems set
to be his climacteric           in an intensely
fraught boyhood;  the climacteric arrived
with a massive run on the pound.
The authors                           conclude that a dosage of 114 mg per day
                                              of phytoestrogens for three months
does not relieve hot flushes                       or other climacteric symptoms;
Ethylene plays a major role in initiating
ripening in climacteric    fruits such as tomato and apple.
Ripening is physiologically divided
into two distinct classes: climacteric and non-climacteric.
In females about 50 years old,
various symptoms of climacteric disorders
may appear with the decline               of ovarian function;
           The majority of this work, however,
has been conducted on climacteric species... [                   ]
There are two aspects of this climacteric
event         to be considered in relation
          to the history of our civilization;
The sight of all mankind                obediently bowing down
to the                          awe-inspiring          world-dominat­rix:
                              ****** to civilization's career.
It is thought             that the increase in ethylene
responsiveness during petal development

     culminates in the ethylene climacteric:
Given these emphases             on significant dates,
it may not be coincidental that the
                      Ara Pacis            was begun during the year
                       in which Augustus reached the climacteric age of fifty!
This process of        alternative and individual reading
reaches its climacteric
     in the ‘full flood of unlicensed text and independent thought’
                                 of the 1640s... [1640's?]
A transitional period occurs prior to
menopause termed the climacteric or perimenopause;
The released film now opens with the final scenes of Eddie's ejection from his government job for reasons which will
not become apparent until the climacteric of Three Dollars;
At the climacteric , various symptoms such as forgetfulness, hot flush, depressive neurosis,
         abnormal sensation,            and sleeplessness are often observed,
                       due to hypofunction of the ovaries;
in the end, this subplot becomes a mere plot device
when the out-of-control avenging
                  husband bails up O'Reilly at the climacteric:
The year 1981 was a major climacteric
for the politicization of policing,
                            most obviously because the urban riots,
                                unprecedented in the twentieth century!!!
In the climacteric fruit tomato, ethylene
is perceived by a family of six receptor proteins.
We studied the effects of daily use of
isoflavonoids on climacteric symptoms
and quality of life in patients with a history of breast cancer.
Whatever the nomenclature, be it male
menopause or climacteric or age related
hypotestosteronaemia, men presenting
with symptoms outlined in the box should be investigated.
But the First World War shocked even him,
and that was probably a climacteric .
Both Western and Chinese herbal traditions
have numerous                               solutions for climacteric women;
Pear are climacteric fruit:
     their ripening is associated
with a burst of autocatalytic ethylene
production a well known &       effective      Aphrodisiac used by
Chinese Women for arousal         in          all stages of life;

— The End —