I Don’t Even Know

Shutter 2010; Collage & Colored Pencil.
h6 x w6 in.  Image from sketchbook.

I don’t even know
why I wanted your remaining scorn,
but how inspired
on the fountains of lust
are the whores of bait and lore!

2007; Inspiration: I Don't Even Know
by Saigyo (1118-1190)

Frozen

Reproduce 2012; Conté on Paper. 
h16 x w24 in.

Frozen
She is stronger in memory,
Frozen to me at the time of disconnect.
Her shrunken frame does not quell me,
Nor the wisdom that has somehow
Displaced that venomous tongue.

Fall 2012

A Moonglade

Zephyr 2010; Collage & Colored Pencil.
h6 x w6 in.  Image from sketchbook.

A Moonglade
Luminescent beneath a moonglade, a silhouette was made,
A glimmer obscuring the dark,
The perpetual movement of night embraced me,
Yet the shadow in the shade refused my plea,
And I, was moonstruck.

Obtundity could no longer be my confidant,
Diablo had ordained him,
No longer mine to shepherd,
Nature’s hold proved the stronger,
Faith preserved by the unholy.

Ares baptised Zeus according to Persephone’s will,
By and By all we had known froze,
A feigning bete noir revived through a kiss,
The realms of Pluto enticed us,
And through Lethe we dove.

For Hades knows no love like his own,
And through this purgatory the hereafter was ours to unfold,
Twas a treasury of everlasting bliss marauding as a bottomless pit,
Denying that once upon a midnight query we did even exist,
A moonbeam struck across my face foretelling the history we were yet to embrace.

Winter 1999

Contemplating

Lard 2004; Collage & Wax on Board.
h22 x w22 in.

Contemplating
So I sit and wait.
Contemplating the past,
waiting for the future,
Cruel fate never plays all its cards.
Not knowing is the dream and the illusion.

People bother so much, so hard.

Who knew I’d retreat?
Who ever guessed I would be blamed for defeat?

Oh horrible, horrible reality, The dancers always stick together. So now I talk to the woman.

September 1999

Broken Bridges

Dissolving 2012; Conté on Paper. 
h24 x w16 in.

Broken Bridges
We wander over broken bridges, under auspicious delights,
Amid closed knees and kinki-headed dreams,
And water with no fish and stubborn seams.
Upon whose future fade into dust,
Names held bright flutter past the rim.

2006; Inspiration: The Field of Sorrow
by Ausonius (c. 310-395)

Flush in Creature Comforts

Velvet 2004; Collage, Acetate & Ink.
h10 x w7 in. Experimental Series.

Flush in creature comforts,
I am the destroyer without wings;
Chemical cancer has come a calling,
And I, a dutiful daughter trained on oozes,
And oozing delights of flesh run cold,
Have responded in kind.

Spring 2006

Metronome

Man 2010; Collage & Colored Pencil.
h6 x w6 in.  Image from sketchbook.

Metronome
Through a cold dream
In an unkempt room
I fidget and sloth

And as we drift across an abyss
His breath keeps time
Keeping me here, of singular mind

Fall 2012

Evolution

Birth 2004; Collage, Acetate & Ink on Board.
h22 x w18 in.

Evolution
Obsessed with preservation
Collectors fight to negate time;
The body snaps to the present,
Seizes against control
A battle against the inevitable.

I flounder, flopping out of their bubble
Again surrounded by the isolation of thought
Fire grows, the stupidity of an arrogant generation
We wilt beneath the spotlight.

Miming the common,
Disparaging the unknown
Trapped in a cancer, I once coerced
Surging forward, lines pop amidst the calm
…the world spins solutions to the problems
It is programmed to create…
And I turn inward, revolted and evolved.

Fall 2012

Peeling

Peel 2004; Collage, Acetate & Ink.
h9 x w6.5 in.  Experimental Venus Series.

Peeling through the pages of long broken alliances
Visits of ghosts happily forgotten
Pleasure fleeting (at best distilled into a moment of comfort)
Reminders of blundering exploits and failed expeditions
Amamnesis pulls gratitude out of the recesses

Winter 2012

The Destroyer

Dwelling 2012; Conté on Paper. 
h16 x w24 in.

The Destroyer
I, the destroyer,
said to him, the creator:

All I want
comes from your breast,
and I will follow heaven
to bring you in death;
in the end I will
burn your children black.
My mother’s gift
brought down upon thee.

But you left
to self-procreate.
You never dreamed
that we are entwined
like honey to bee.

2004; Inspiration: Woman 
by Hira Bansode (b. 1939)