The Poet, The Painter, The Life Imitator

 

The Painting After Lunch
Clarence Major
It wasn’t working. Didn’t look back. Needed something else. So
I went out. After lunch I saw it in a different light, like a thing
emerging from behind a fever bush, something reaching the
senses with the smell of seaweed boiling, and as visible as yellow
snowdrops on black earth. Tasted it too, on the tongue Jamaica
pepper. To the touch, a velvet flower. Dragging and scumming, I
gave myself to it stroke after stroke. It kept coming in bits and fits,
fragments and snags. I even heard it singing but in the wrong key
like a deranged bird in wild cherries, having the time of its life.
.
.
.
.
Poetry is painting with words!  What a lovely poem, so full of truth.  To read more of Mr. Clarence Major’s work please pick up his book:

Waiting for Sweet Betty - by Clarence Major.  A painter poet whose work speaks to my heart.

Waiting for Sweet Betty – by Clarence Major. A painter poet whose work speaks to my heart.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s