May 20. 2012
The Painter and The Poet
let me start
at the beginning
where it all began
and tell you the
tale of a full grown man
i've been twiddled and tweaked
had many miss-speaks
but i'll tell you if i can
about my love of a woman
she came out of nowhere
when i wasn't looking
she was wholesome and divine
and really had it cooking
it happened when i had
the least little notion
she came like a meteor
from over the ocean
not in person or in the flesh
it was through poems and paint
that our souls did mesh
for it was over a painting I painted
we first became acquainted
i had posted the art out in cyberspace
and a poem was commented in it's place
i tried it again with another painted piece
more rhymes appeared, odes, ditties,
sing-songs, a delectable feast
i did rendering after rendering
and her words appeared tendering
that forgotten place in my heart
where grace, love and mercy had no part
but her words undid me
as my paintings unleashed her word bar
and we ferociously tendered and rendered
from over the ocean afar
through our artistry we became close
closer than close
til our spirits overlapped the waves
and we created such overflows
of paintings and poems, impressions and prints
charcoals and sketches while stanza after stanza she sent
would we ever meet or physically speak
this art over the ocean went on for weeks
time went from seconds to a full long year
i was her darling, she was my dear
it was the faith of the ocean that kept us near
we aged on the page her words mellowed my rage
i helped her to soften as i painted her often
in ways that i thought she would be
and thus she wrote her thoughts of me
it mattered not if she
was lean or fat
she wrote a poem saying she too
did not care about that
this went on and on her pen to my painted song
and for my every brush stroke
a poem from her it did evoke
how long could this last
my brush to her pen
it was unspeakable to think
our pleasure should end
but one day canvas after canvas
i painted and cyber sent
but her writings stopped
without even a hint
month after month went
by but so as not to die
through the fever of neglect
and through the art of my respect
for her words that had gone dry
i feverishly painted without asking why
many years passed then one day when i came home
a huge envelope in my mailbox was found
with a frayed yellow ribbon it was bound
i opened it and out poured poem after poem
so many poems galore
i sat and arranged them on my paint spattered floor
they spoke of her love and all things dear
and once again her words drew me near
she spoke of money sorrows and unexpected tomorrows
full of badly thought out borrows
and all of the lack of care
it was more than any true love could bare
pained I went for a walk to get much needed air
i stepped onto my porch to depart
I stopped with a start
there were poems every where
tied on branches of trees and stapled to leaves
and there on the lawn of my grass
was a poem that I thought would never come to pass
there, wrinkled and gray sprinkled she stood at last
i toddled to her age riddled with my cane in hand
and kissed the best portrait in all of poetry land
we walked down by the ocean I sat with my head on her thighs and
from sunset to sunrise, I recited her every poem for I had them memorized
I taught her how to paint with the last of our time
she taught me to write love words with or without rhyme.
so now I'm at the ending of where it all began
some paint and some words
between a woman and a man
at the beginning
where it all began
and tell you the
tale of a full grown man
i've been twiddled and tweaked
had many miss-speaks
but i'll tell you if i can
about my love of a woman
she came out of nowhere
when i wasn't looking
she was wholesome and divine
and really had it cooking
it happened when i had
the least little notion
she came like a meteor
from over the ocean
not in person or in the flesh
it was through poems and paint
that our souls did mesh
for it was over a painting I painted
we first became acquainted
i had posted the art out in cyberspace
and a poem was commented in it's place
i tried it again with another painted piece
more rhymes appeared, odes, ditties,
sing-songs, a delectable feast
i did rendering after rendering
and her words appeared tendering
that forgotten place in my heart
where grace, love and mercy had no part
but her words undid me
as my paintings unleashed her word bar
and we ferociously tendered and rendered
from over the ocean afar
through our artistry we became close
closer than close
til our spirits overlapped the waves
and we created such overflows
of paintings and poems, impressions and prints
charcoals and sketches while stanza after stanza she sent
would we ever meet or physically speak
this art over the ocean went on for weeks
time went from seconds to a full long year
i was her darling, she was my dear
it was the faith of the ocean that kept us near
we aged on the page her words mellowed my rage
i helped her to soften as i painted her often
in ways that i thought she would be
and thus she wrote her thoughts of me
it mattered not if she
was lean or fat
she wrote a poem saying she too
did not care about that
this went on and on her pen to my painted song
and for my every brush stroke
a poem from her it did evoke
how long could this last
my brush to her pen
it was unspeakable to think
our pleasure should end
but one day canvas after canvas
i painted and cyber sent
but her writings stopped
without even a hint
month after month went
by but so as not to die
through the fever of neglect
and through the art of my respect
for her words that had gone dry
i feverishly painted without asking why
many years passed then one day when i came home
a huge envelope in my mailbox was found
with a frayed yellow ribbon it was bound
i opened it and out poured poem after poem
so many poems galore
i sat and arranged them on my paint spattered floor
they spoke of her love and all things dear
and once again her words drew me near
she spoke of money sorrows and unexpected tomorrows
full of badly thought out borrows
and all of the lack of care
it was more than any true love could bare
pained I went for a walk to get much needed air
i stepped onto my porch to depart
I stopped with a start
there were poems every where
tied on branches of trees and stapled to leaves
and there on the lawn of my grass
was a poem that I thought would never come to pass
there, wrinkled and gray sprinkled she stood at last
i toddled to her age riddled with my cane in hand
and kissed the best portrait in all of poetry land
we walked down by the ocean I sat with my head on her thighs and
from sunset to sunrise, I recited her every poem for I had them memorized
I taught her how to paint with the last of our time
she taught me to write love words with or without rhyme.
so now I'm at the ending of where it all began
some paint and some words
between a woman and a man
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