I watch my passing life
From a shell of my own making.
I feel like a museum curator
Evaluating old paintings.
Moments in time, separately frozen,
And sealed within their frames-
Each one is an isolated fragment
Of emotions that have no names.
Canvas textured with brushstrokes
Vivid hues spread to the hems
Are these mere still life paintings
Or is there still life in them?
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1 comment:
the life in them is that of the artist that is captured and preserved amongst the sinuous lines and strokes of the viscous paints of the masterpiece. the remaining figment of life that challenges the beholder to unravel it; one that says, "this is me, my life. look at it. feel it. remember it."
...good blog you got here!
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