Blár
Cerulean, stamen-like brushstrokes
wet on wet blending the colours
create three shades of blue
not to paint anything ugly or dark
uggely, uglike, from Old Norse uggligr
a love song within the frame
using a palette knife to anchor
acrylic on gessoed canvas self-effacing and ephemeral
inanimate synthetic abundance
as if we’re harrowed by time
placing the spectator within the painting
and you are not the sun, the tree,
the tiny blue flower.
night in the gutted house
in the gutted house i am folding the laundry. i walk through the brick walls, i don’t live here, but here i am. it all feels calm. the dining room with the chandelier that sways. its crystals eerily tinkling. ghosts roam the hallway. i can see white geese flying into the room. the stone chimney dismantled. now they are nesting on the leather couch. i can see wedding dresses floating on the ceiling. long white silk taffeta with pearls. lace veils. i can’t see i reduce my palette to monochrome colours. scaffolding supports are built. the floorboards have rotted. i sit alone in this house. the piano that starts to play a song. a child in shorts and blue top. the easel still stands by the window. gesso, cotton canvas, a pine table. a bahut with acrylics and brushes.
dyslexia
it is a simple piece, not nude, naked. before continuing
my journey. surreal watercolour blue. printmaking. aquatint
on etched copper plate emerging in these spaces. paper
everywhere. a tray of chemicals, running water, the
timer. stupida, my father calls me.
The Antarctic Polar Desert
Where a mummified seal
anaerobic bacteria within rocks
the wild katabatic winds
there are sand dunes
liverworts, hornworts and mosses
mountain tops, nunataks
emerald-green algae
environment that of Mars
we open our tent doors
months on sledges
the perma-frost thawing
Onyx river fed by melt
climate change parable
the silence from man.
