Art Practice - The Rest of 2023
For context, I was recently informed of the affiliations of my previous hosting platform, so I needed to migrate off it, and I was always kinda thinking of compacting my shorter (usually weekly) posts together into one longer post. This is that, for the rest of 2023, starting from the point at which there’s no text describing what I did.
Seal
On a sandy rock
behind sturdy panes of glass,
singing siren songs
Hut
Beyond the sunny hills you’ll find
a tiny hut so lonely.
It’s stood against the rain and time
the doorsteps have grown moldy.
Behind the dusty window pane,
a red light flickers dimly.
A silhouette with hat and cane
knocks from the inside primly
Turtle
I once knew a pond in a nearby park
where I liked to sit and snooze
on the song of lonely larks.
On occasion button eyes would peek
out above the surface blue,
with minor motions in the cheeks.
I’d leave a leaf of salad floating
close to the fist-sized turtle shell
and when I got back I’d see it poking
out, right against the nearby well.
A Message at Dawn
There’s a hand raised in silent greeting
a shaky motion, approaching a wave.
Four fingers curl, their tips meet softly,
one solitarily pointing upward,
to come to rest on pale cherry lips,
retreating into the deafening,
bright red soundscape of dawn.
Spires
Up
over
blueish
greenish
white-speckled
fronts of clouds,
steadfast pillars
are planted
centrally
between
boundless
seas of houses,
ever empty and
long derelict, since
when the needle that
pierces the scattered sky,
consumed all inhabitants.
Applause
Thunder shakes the hall
but the danger has subsided.
Whistles, joyous calls,
and where the palms collided,
unspoken recognition builds
for work expertly done,
a smile, a bow, but still,
there’s much more to be won.
Good Night’s Sleep
A spell is cast on wings of clouds
in words of slow impedance.
Sluggish motions deep enshroud
both conscious thought and sense.
It lays itself on eyelids fair
and weighs down tongues to silence.
Drowsiness satiates the air
and dreams arise to guide us.
Play
He rolls down the steep incline between the pear tree and disused fences.
Stopped softly by a bump near the yard,
where reed and roses lean apart like jilted lovers.
There he stands and grins into the sky,
eastwards, as if competing with the rising sun.
Buying Habits
There once was a duck working at forbes,
absconded with investors’ cards.
It bout tons of peas,
corn, bread and seeds,
and earned noone’s honest regards.
A Simple Thing
“‘Tis a simple thing”, he told me
and placed it back down on the sill.
”It shelters from weather and will guarantee,
that I’ll wake back up here - until
somebody decides that I won’t.”
His fingers trace the edge
of the red clinker brick and I note
that the unsaid words that I catch
are what happens when things come down hard,
when that loose brick is the last resort.
When We Get There
For seven nights we’ve walked up hills
and the sun is rising again
over treetops and into the thicket
of clouds.
The destination isn’t quite in sight yet,
and it’s difficult to say
how it looks when we’ll get there.
But we’ll know.
Feathers
Feathers fall softly,
a white blanket like fall clouds
laying themselves down.
Jump
Muscles contract, energies strain
the eyes focus on a faraway point
all sensations recede to gain
those last angles in the joint,
then, in a cathartic,
rapid, symphonic,
release of the tension
the body flies upwards,
reaching, and then some
into the sky - with the birds
Bion
There once was a board from Berlin
that thought it might go for a swim.
It sped to the shores,
grunts not unlike roars,
and someone cried “Lion!” at him
Morning at the Harbour
You walk down the cobblestone road
to the harbour
where salty air meets cold winter mornings
between the people
that begin a new day of work,
and the dockworkers whose day has just concluded
Street Into Town
The smell of dried grass
beckons
and fills up the last
seconds
before finally crossing
the road
into the town, pausing,
slowed,
and glances behind,
to the fields that were kind,
to us for so many years.
Bones
The sun comes down hot,
bleaching bones from long ago,
a last warm goodbye.
Goodbye Egg
The egg spins sideways,
rights itself, tip pointing up.
It takes off. Goodbye.
Famous
There once was a car painted yellow,
belonged to some odd-looking fellow.
Bright yellow and green,
wherever they’ve been
passerbies remember them so.
Advertising
“There;s little days left” it was said in the ad,
and it made me snicker in private.
The year was ending, so the days really had
grown shorter and colder in climate.
From below the short quip, a lady in blue
grinned a wide grin and held out her arms,
to hold into the frame, a shiny and new
vacuum, that rides on her charms.
Funhouse Mirror
The wavy arm waves,
back at me past two corners.
I don’t dislike it.
Reading Old Notes
Why are there arrows everywhere?
Is there a pages missing here?
This doodle is cute, but it bled through the paper...
There's a stain and I wonder what it is.
I'm sure I once made a copy of this.
Oh, I never checked out this reference!
Is that how I used to write \zeta?
This isn't my handwriting...
I remember playing this game of Tic Tac Toe.
I can't study from these, so I might throw them out.
But they're soaked in memories.
Cold Tea
A mug sits on the windowsill,
a spoon next to it, on the plate,
catching some leftover spill
of the bag's soft, and soggy state.
It's been some hours though, you note
as you lift up the mug, to take a look.
Once hot and soothing to the throat,
now looks stale, with a thin film in it's nooks.
String
You hung a string, over the window
to hold up the picture you took last year.
The walls where it was up to now,
are occupied, no longer clear.
Where it hangs now, it covers the view
on the radio tower, behind the trees.
Outside, the contrasting morning dew
renders it difficult to see.
Tired
The night-time seconds stretch slowly, into a goopy soup of images.
At the same time, they skip, first by moment, then by minute, then hour.
Heavy breaths lift heavy eyes, trying to fixate on letters and fingers,
and the instance the weight of the eyelids prevails, they flutter apart into mush.
Norman
There once was a hamster named "Norman",
who spent most of his days lying dormant.
He kept snoozing away,
til the last light of day,
then began gorging himself that instant.