Film Photography > Poetry

The illustrious artist, imagination flowing to shift the paper into an image.

The imagination knows no barriers,

An open structure safe from weather systems

The sky like charcoal and graphite.

In the sand lay coloured eggs of cerulean blue and a yellow ochre

The bench of iron appears to be a burnt sienna.

The trough on the desk with pencils

And marvellous


Creatures and archaic cities.

Everything he draws becomes a real scenario

In this landscape.

The owners built a fantasy setting

From the outside it looks like a

Apartment complex in perpetual


Once you walk through

It’s yard you see a

Manta ray

The size of a commercial plane

Mobile like above his desk.

The television sky flickers…

(Part two)

Minds eye

There is something about the minds

Eye that is a swirling storm.

Static and realizations,

Scattered on the paper

Flecks of gold leaf brushed into the cheek


We roam so far in the masterpiece

It pulls the crowds that want to

Take moments with a camera

In a museum,

Or to have the postcard

Of the artists dream

Above your desk.

I am fortunate to be a guest here

But also a creator

Like my neighbour to the effervescence

Of colours and water pooling off

The brush hairs

To paint the rivers

For the storms.

Thick and thin and curves and swirls


The large canvas and the drawings

as a study.

He tells me he has to work hard,

Because of 8000 reasons.

He must maintain

To live in this domain,

Or his life would be


Body on the gravel spray

A torn shroud of the street.

The illusions and the Fervour

Keep the artist safe.

This uncaged madness mixed

With a language

That is of many


Every fantasy has its secrets

The cracked concrete

Brought me here

I was in search of this escape.

As it found me.

The illustrator