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 *Veil* 36" H X 24" W Acrylic On Canvas The
Last Day Of The Last Month Came Fast. Time To Raise A Shout Before Time Runs Out, To Show The Fickle Gods Who Rule You’re Not Just Another Fool. Act Now, And Leave Your Mark On The Encroaching Dark.
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 Music
Makes Song, And From There, It’s Not Long Until A Poem Forms, And These Progressions Become Norms, Habits That Scamper Through The Mind To Blend And Rearrange Until Poetry Changes Into Music, And Music Into Song.  Dying
On The Fiftieth Floor, He Ascended To The Clouds Above The East River, Ever Ongoing, In Flowing Shrouds, Climbing, Climbing Higher, So Easy To See Broadway From These Great Heights, His Name Emblazoned In Ten Score Of Lights. Far From The Grave, He Waved. No More Crazy Days, Gaudy Nights And Tiresome Matinees, His Ticket Spent, He Simply Went, Safely Wrapped In A Gauze Of Remembered Applause.  *Jean-Etienne Liotard* Young Girl Singing Who
Can Say It’s Wrong To Dream The World Away In A Song? To Understand A Treasured Book, Purer And More Just Than Anywhere You Look? Lose The Desire To Warm The Heart Before Fantasy’s Fire? Not Step Into Art And Become A Part Of Another Life? I Say Not Me, Not For An Entire Day Can I Step Away One Degree From The Nourishing Bread Of All I’ve Read Or Seen. In My Soul, They Sparkle And Shine, And Are Wholly Mine.  Poetry
Is Distilled Emotion And Many Think That’s Way Too Strong A Drink. I Rely On The Chance Passerby, Who In An Idle Glance, Takes In The Sweet Romance Of Words Arranged To Touch The Sleeping Heart And Make A Deeper Feeling Start.  The Beauty Of The Broken This
Fragile Bowl From Which Some Ancient Soul Drank And Ate Met A Sad Fate, Was Thought Too Old And Impure To Endure, But An Artist Bold Skillfully Mended Every Crack With Gold.  A
Chill Moon, Winter White, Navigates The Star Pocked Night, Distant, Heedless, Slicing Down Through The Desert Town With Frosty Light, Making Midnight Bright.  What’s
That, Baby, You Don’t Feel Right? Bilious, Bloated, Digestion Too Tight? Is It Some Television Blight Mentioned Endlessly Every Night? A Little Pill Will Thrill Your Belly And Another Will Solve Your Smelly Whatever, Migraine Will Never Make You Rude, Brain Function Can Be Renewed, Memory Restored, Botox Will Make Your Face A Seamless Board, Gee. Watch TV And See How Healthy You Can Be.  *DeviantArt* Ms.
Mary Lou Labored To Build A Plausible Life As Loving Mother And Faithful Wife, But One Tuesday Morning At The Local Drug Store, Her Head Fell Off And Rolled On The Floor, All The Way To The Automatic Door. The Pharmacist Rushed To Attend This Chore And With A Bottle Of Instant Skin, Glued The Head Back On Again. Although It Was Slightly Askew, It Was The Best Anyone Could Do. Ms. Mary Lou Went On Her Way, And Is Doing Okay, Except She Doesn’t Have Much To Say, I Fear, Since Her Voice Now Comes Out Her Left Ear.  *Hieroglyph* The
Crows Have Returned From Wherever Crows Go, Come To Map The Neighbor Streets For Random Treats. Black As A Swamp Bog, They Intimidate The Dog With Raucous Caws Without Pause, Then Flying On, They’re Gone. |
AuthorJeanette Collins Archives
November 2022
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