The image is already emblazened in my mind, as the details follow
A beautiful half man half something mystical with a heart so hollow
I close my eyes and invision such a beautiful picture
No spoken words needed, the image writes a scripture
So as I nudge close, eyes engulfed in the brushstrokes
Bristles whistle on a canvas of habits and touch home
This Picasso grows old with a cloth cold blind fold
And chose to put life in perspective with his eyes closed
Lines flow with no boundaries when they’re found to meet
With a crash, a splash of color that covers the bounds of seas
Unwound and free like a floating breeze passing by them
In a frame of mind playing freeze tag with the horizon
Fine print in the corner, the owner witnessed his name
Crisp, sealed with a kiss of chapped lips pressing for change
Wick to flame, flame to matches, candles paint the fabric
Of time, light a tunnel of thought and the train is passage
That climbs, to mind’s crevices, designs that pens will drip
Run marathons, upon inspection are dots on sentences
Lining the price tag of a portrait apportioned for retail
I sold it to myself, Well… I was enamored with the details

A man of strong body yet weak mind at one instance
An endless picture that connects the ends with beginnings

Taken for granite this man of stone, born to stand alone
Set in bronze, arms weatherworn, strong, tan, and grown
Hands shown, smooth and delicate, no clues of blemishes
Eyes awry, gorgonized, muse the womb of Pegasus
Stoop in reverence, his presence just gleams in the day
Forever dreams of hero status without a wield from his blade
Forever shields his face from the heels of debate
Forever kneels for escape and being free of his cage
Enclosed in his own pose like parentheses on a page
The pause of the comma stays, sways, setting the stage
Impressions in clay, dreams are still wet when they pour
A vigil guard as the chisel tore his umbilical chord
A symbol is born, deformed without a heart and soul
Centuries apart, seemed that the art had lost it’s hold
A first step, a birth of breath that he choked in cold
The pain was vile but he smiled while he broke the mold
Images jumping at him, the bristles of the brush moving swiftly
No other would see this masterpiece as he destroyed it quickly


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RV's Only 3 Time Topical Tourney Champion