The wooden paddle of my grandpa's boat
the smoothness of abstract paint
wild brushstrokes
covered objects
a vail like
amidst lit smokes
shadow and bright
dark 'nd highlight
one color for it all
contrasts
eventually take the fall
arbitrarily
the rules you break
a practical joke?
front to back,
right across
rationality at a loss
can't I see?
illegible?
or just drawn in some secret key?
ruff edges
of picture perfect truth
blended and softened
made plain and smooth
creating your own gospel truth
fifteen hundred
and already bought
my neighbour's eyes
overflowing emotion
I wish I could've caught
Irrational brushstroke
ment to provoke?
tears softly on a trench-coat
sound of faint drizzling rain
on the tarpaulin above a rowboat
soothing waves
ocean spray
against the varnish coat
suddenly the middle of the canvas holds
the wooden paddle of my grandpa's boat
_
Hey I'm always looking for feedback from great writers such as yourself, to help me get better at this. So if you have an opinion I'd love to hear it in the comments. Thank you it's well appreciated <3
About the Creator
S. Gabriela Heitzinger
I'm a filmmaker from Vienna who loves to do literally anything artsy. From drawing and painting to music to arts and crafts to screenwriting to... I also love to write:) AND read ;) thanks for stopping by <3
Insta: @gabshxtshow
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Reaching Out
I promise her. I'd do anything for her. She's my mom. Even as Lanie and Deanna are flying home, Mom is scrappy fighting dying. She lays too still in that too-big bed with all the toasty white hospital blankets, in the south tower, at the broad end of a long slow-turning corner that delivers me again to her private room with the view she can't see through, with the beeping that tells us nothing new, and all these ice chips she can't swallow, and a flood of well-intentioned nurses who cannot do a damned thing all the same.
By Christy Munson5 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
Oh this was so beautifully written! Loved your take on the challenge!