Emotion into Art
A dark portrait, hiding face and features
Heavy shadows embrace a little frame with arms raised to declare “We Can’t All Be Beautiful”
Stretching wide as if to burden her with imperfections, wearing them as a crucible
The humble viewer wants more light
Pulling her close into a Rigid embrace
Photos staring back at her, the only ones allowed to see
Comfort wine and Kate Winslet so close to her, perhaps keeping her safe
Lift your eyes, gentle beauty
A blaze of red Poping, and he, the viewer, sees a face and eyes
Red lips and dark make up greet him, but eyes look away
Pale skin almost blending with the gray of the rest of her world
But Alabaster is brighter, much lovelier
The Ghost of You, Beauty, a woman’s frame, eyes meeting The Viewer’s gaze
He can see through to the stills of French Bohemia and Verona gripped by feud and hopeless love
She’s almost gone
But no, she don’t fade, not now
A rough grain, back turned
Gray tones harmonize to highlight a slinky pose
Deep black gloves rest on her body
Gentle black fingers highlighted against the pale canvas of her skin
Body language simply whispers “Is this it?” perhaps to say, “Is this what you want to see?”
The Viewer desires more
Shadows of her in a progression of movement
The light shifts against her
Her body shape moves and changes to the viewer
Last frame, looking to him
But he can’t see her eyes
Quick shift into Colour, highlighting her milky complexion
From stillness and blue to a bright hue of white
A crown of fiery pink almost not included in frame, until a look towards, or away from the viewer
The haze of the Shadows makes it unable to discern
And just what is that a picture of?
Laying down, a Morning View
Perhaps the first thing she sees in the morning
How privileged the viewer to witness
Grays again, sunlight the only white he sees
The glow of morning dances on the white pallet of her body
A little bump, blurry, but recognizable
Suddenly an atomic glare of bright white and orange-blond
Deep makeup hides all but half of one eye
As if to give the humble, enchanted viewer a sultry wink
Bright red letters scream out “Choose life” with a hyper realistic, grim manifesto of continuing life
Turning her face towards the Morning
Kate and the mobsters now at her back, he views her full frame
He sees her metal ornaments hooked through her flesh
Her frame is flawless, at least to the viewer
He can see no fault
She, surrounded by pinks, purples, blacks and white
Faces and pictures on her wall, elephants across her curtain
Just as he is shown light, the Viewer and the Beauty are plunged In The Darkness again
He views her moment of agony
She shows how a simple draw of the curtain and the change of position can make all the difference in mood and feeling
The viewer is reminded of the crucible from before, arms stretched wide again
He feels the anguish conveyed as is flows from a bent frame and colours muted by darkness
Once again, the mood changes to a deeper, more primal emotion
Lust of a morning relaxation, a sigh or a moan escapes her lips
The sun highlights the room
They shine and brighten the world around her
Yet The viewer barely notices the room around her, he longs for another view of, something above
As he thinks this and speaks his mind, he notices another photo, exactly what he was looking for
She holds herself and her head’s inclined in another sensual pose and a gentle explanation
“Because I Want You”
The Viewer wonders to who is this addressed
But knows these questions are better left unanswered
He simply enjoys the times he has with The Beauty
Letting her know when his heart is so moved to report
And finally gathering the nerve to pour his soul into poetry
So perhaps The Beauty can see what The Viewer sees
Letting his words weave his emotion into art
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Hear my words, may they move you in whatever direction your soul sees fit
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