Emotional Paint

Boxed in cubes, thoughts collide
Visions pushed into large blank spots
Double sided faces, our distorted pride
Seeing only scarlet red and angry black pots
Like Picasso

Brain weary thoughts melting into disarray
Sluggish in their perpetual complex dance
Making time forever out of reach and delayed
Trying to catch it, trying to capsulate this chance
Like Dali

Scattered veins grab on tightly to our addictions
Tightening their grip and leading us astray
Shattering hopes and creating only contradictions
Mingling freely with our own will to our dismay
Like Pollock

Out of focus, surroundings softly slightly blurred
Seeing life muddled without any clear lines
Not trusting what is seen or what is heard
Misty and foggy wobbling through troubled times
Like Monet

Needing the comfort of sweetened sanguine words
Needing absolution from leaded dreaded works
Wanting to hear what will wash gently inwards
Wanting to know words to help congeal the hurt
Like Shelley

Posted in Poetry

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