Yves Klein - Leap into the Void
Words that fly from the lip of pedestal creating; today announcing with pride, with amazing revolutionary prejudice: “I am”
And in the dust-settled tomorrow the pendulum swings back malevolent; rotten tomatoes and piss-filled bottles flung at random at the pedestal established; to deny any statement of place or tradition.
There are scars that remain (as they must) in the forming of the adult who lurches along time’s erratic arrow; hypothalamic posters hung in the bedroom walls of heart memory, there to be picked over by the ghosts of teenage longing and the guilt of lost lust living.
But time is less an arrow than a piano dropped down a pit of finite (but unfathomable) depth.
All we have is the fall – the freedom; the free fall with music playing to echo in the shaft, perhaps to leave a few paint scars on the walls as we descend; a token of our passing; before the jangle of the chaos chord and broken key teeth and the mind’s release into subatomic peace.
And in the dust-settled tomorrow the pendulum swings back malevolent; rotten tomatoes and piss-filled bottles flung at random at the pedestal established; to deny any statement of place or tradition.
There are scars that remain (as they must) in the forming of the adult who lurches along time’s erratic arrow; hypothalamic posters hung in the bedroom walls of heart memory, there to be picked over by the ghosts of teenage longing and the guilt of lost lust living.
But time is less an arrow than a piano dropped down a pit of finite (but unfathomable) depth.
All we have is the fall – the freedom; the free fall with music playing to echo in the shaft, perhaps to leave a few paint scars on the walls as we descend; a token of our passing; before the jangle of the chaos chord and broken key teeth and the mind’s release into subatomic peace.
5 comments:
Oh and when that pendulum swings back.
Broken teeth indeed.
i'm very intrigued by your site, you paint fantastically with your words.
i will enjoy popping in to read some new canvases....
k
All we have is the fall – the freedom; the free fall with music playing to echo in the shaft, perhaps to leave a few paint scars on the walls as we descend; a token of our passing .....
sublime! as par usual........
Welcome Karoline.
Anonymous: glad to see you're still with us.
you can take the water away from the mule....but you can't keep the mule away from the water......
i'm glad, too, Pisces.
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