Art is Work

 

Art is work

worth its weight in gold

the weight it holds in words untold

paint that covers stains in damaged souls

by expressing pain and dreams we hold

art keeps us going when days feel grey and the rains are cold

 

Art is not a choice

we can’t turn off a tap on the inner voice

or divorce the love that flows in our hearts

we can’t part with magic that we find

or dislodge pictures that appear in our minds

art is the fabric that blankets us

keeps us warm when the biting wind cuts

 

Art is therapy, every day, everything, all we do and say

it reverberates in every note you hear

in every song that you play

it holds you near when your closest friend is fear

hugs you tightly when darkness appears

art is the glue that keeps us from falling apart

a sticking plaster on the heart

the shock we need when it feels like life just won’t start

 

Art is a saviour when times are tough

it is a hand offering unconditional love

art is a friend when the world feels empty

be it music, painting, poetry written or spoken

photography, abstract or realist, sculptured moments of frozen emotion

dancers moving like waves on an ocean

it’s all the world in motion 

 

Art is a fire that sparks into life,

an inferno of heart and mind

art is work and the world would be so cold

if it was to be pushed in the dirt, unshown, unheard and untold

by those who see worth only in pound signs

and are blind to the beauty found in artistic rays of sunshine 

 

 

Thanks For Reading.

Peace & Love.

Kyle.

 

Gutter Stream Paradise

Against the high rise

in the shadows of the underbelly

in the alleyways, of this once great city

living the high life

in this downtrodden gutter stream paradise

 

On the dark nights

in the lights of shop signs 

and windows dressed in luminescent shine

like satin silk sheets of moonlight

caressing the curves of the city until sunrise

 

In the cold air

a snapshot of a city in motion

against a painting of perfection

the bustle and commotion

like the roar of waves crashing 

on an excited ocean

 

Down escalators

electric light caverns

recycled smoky air

tastes rancid

am I supposed to be entranced?

by the way the shadows dance

and advertising hoardings blare

 

As the sun rises

on the strengthened glass

and the steel towers

the glisten of light showers

on pathways and pavements,

against bricked up, board covered windows, alone

storefronts, broken fragments of old bottles thrown

in this city street, where hurt is rife

living the high life

in this downtrodden gutter stream paradise

 

 

Thanks For Reading,

Peace & love.

Kyle.

Daytrip

 

Engine purred as it came to life

pawed the ground with wheels of fire

and we took off pouncing

a blur against the dusky night

we were alive, rushing down roads

we held tight

against a backdrop of twinkling stars

and satellites

 

Miles roared by

just us and the black void sky

tarmac exploded in sounds that poured

through the windscreen

into the blanket of night

its cooling embrace chilled 

as we evaporated out of sight

 

We saw clouds billow like fluffy cotton pillows

covering the sky,

under the darkness, you and I

as waves ripped through the peace

the sound like an angry beast unleashed

Earth and sea

in constant battle

as the winds join the orchestral rattle

 

And as the waters stroked the sands

you took my heart in your hand

placed a kiss on thirsty lips

as we let the darkness slip

let the moonlight guide

its brightness we hold inside

 

We laughed like hyenas,

with just sand beneath us

a grain of hope in this mean world’s arenas

a trickle of time,

a tickle of dust on this clock face of mine

and I was happy, 

the smile a sign

 

 

Thanks For Reading,

Peace & Love.

Kyle.