Lisa paints
Lisa paints
like I want to write
passionately
colorfully
in imaginative detail
with soul bearing confidence
with bittersweet honesty
and when she stands
before the canvas
with Haydn playing
in the background
it is then you know
that there’s no turning back
she takes no prisoners
or so I think, as I watch her
on this particular day
when it is raining outside
and we are stuck
in that tiny apartment in Miami
the one we rented out of desperation
after the foreclosure
and she’s wearing the smock
that I bought for her at Target
for Christmas
the powder blue one
with the four big pockets
for her artist stuff
but it is smattered now
with misplaced paint:
Titanium White
Burt Rose
Radiant Violet
Tree Sap Green
Bee sting Yellow
“don’t move” she says coldly
as she adjusts the blinds
I’m drinking bourbon in the nude
tired and tortured in an ugly little room
in a miserable part of town
Prussian Green
Cobalt Tourquoise
Winsor Emerald
Vandyke Brown
she snaps on a light
I soak in its radiance
I’m grateful for the heat
the minutes crawl by
while
Lisa paints.
I like this, though it is sad about the foreclosure, but when i tried to push the like thing above, it did not allow me to like it.
Thanks for reading. Apparently there is something wrong with the Like button. I have gotten a couple of likes on this but they are not showing up.
No matter…I post stuff for readers to read and if they are reading it, I have done my job.
I love that many of your poems tell a story. Your life is colorful indeed.
Thank you biochicklet! I always appreciate your stopping by.
Loved this poem. You are so gifted!
Thank you, I am glad that you enjoyed it.