The President
Artwork
Recent Fractures
Standing on the edge
Where everything brittle must eventually break
Where every painting is a tempting of fate
I do think about these things
But not deeply, and not with too much weight
Because I try to tread lightly on the edge of fate
But recent fractures
Can’t be ignored nor can I the consequences understate
Should I be a fool with the my easel and miscalculate
And become a statistic for the local papers to state
All for the homage to beauty that I’d hoped to create
If the ground would only have held for one more day
So with caution I step, and I work, and I pray
Because more than anything I would surely hate
To subjugate
My wife and my kids
To suffer from my foolishly befallen fate
Who Are You?
Higher Learning
If I had learned a little more
I’d have known what not to do
I’d have stood my ground
And refused to paint
The whole entire view
But here we are after the fact
Showing every reef and where they lie
Splayed out across this canvas
From a vantage point
Halfway up the sky
A smarter arter would have simply
Painted only one piece of this coast
But thankfully
I missed that class
And I’m not as smart as most
Silver and Gold
Silver and gold I may not have
But what I have I give to you
I’ve got the golden sun
On a morning bright enough to
Cast out shadows
From the depths of hell
I’ve got the silver sea
On a morning calm enough to
Cast a sweet spell
Up to the heights of heaven
Take ’em
They’re yours
Not Exactly No
Into the Sunset
When the Ship Comes In
Where It Wishes
You never know where the wind will take you.
I generally avoid painting down at sea level.
I like to be up on the edge of the cliff.
Canvas bouncing in the wind.
But today I’m here.
Not of my own decision.
I’m painting this for some friends.
They’re moving on, and this, a parting gift.
You never know where the wind will take you.
The Brighter Side of Widowhood
Thermal Windows
Mine… Or Maybe Yours
Needle in a Haystack
The needle was the view
And the haystack was the mist
I come for the first
But cursed my luck
When I couldn’t see past my fist
I set up in faith
That it would clear
And momentarily it did
Had to work quick
To get the jist
And that is what you see here
Lost… Or Just Displaced
A Little Ways Away
Thérèse of Lisieux
Born in an age of books without end
Teachers teaching the taught
The perfected lesson
The corrected doctrine
But no one to love the world entire
Unable to bear the burden
And fully aware of the limits
Of her own imperfect love
Small, weak, and broken
She found her greatest strength
In her failure
No longer striving for greatness
Of knowledge or deed
She forged The Little Way
By scattering flowers
Of small sacrifice
Of fleeting glance
Of gentle word
The smallest
Actions of
Love
And
Light
Falling on
The monastery
That bears her name
Across the bay
A Little Ways away
A simple reminder
That this canvas
On which I lay down petals
Of Red Yellow Blue and White
Is but itself
Insignificant
And merely another
Flower scattered
For Love
Stairway to Here
It’s the word that was spoken
Before I was sent
To a world collapsing
Under it’s own colorless night
We look with our eyes
And see failure
An abandoned outhouse
A crime spree
Suspicion and
Self destruction
Egos ablaze
And rampant consumption
Of her beautiful form
Of her body
Of earth
And water
But these aren’t the words
And this isn’t the book
There’s no stairway to heaven
Only a stairway
To here
So go forth
But not with your eyes
Just give them your heart
And every color within it
And I’ll give you my word
And my word is
Love
Ukha
Unfasten the beading
Undo the hook from the loop
Soon we’ll be eating
Russian Fish Soup
Tonight in the cabin
After the sun jumps its hoop
We know what we’re havin’
It’s Russian Fish Soup
We’re not in a hurry
But the ladle’s first scoop
Sets our spoons in a flurry
Of Russian Fish Soup
Buzz Buzz
Nothing to Get Mad About
Pacific Coast Higher Way
Elsewhere
You Go Left, I’ll go Right
Sun Set Twice
Oil and Water
Made in California
