Grey days may appear
to cloud freedoms, far and near.
Don’t give in to fear.
Think as Spring draws near
of all that you hold most dear.
Peace and beauty shall appear.
Tag Archives: artists
HAIKU
The me becomes lost
amidst all of thee crowding,
flower choked by weeds.
Filed under POETRY
GREY DAYS
Some days are more difficult than others
and paint will not dry fast enough
to add the details which make the canvass
come alive in form and color.
The grey, pregnant clouds cover the sky
from end to end and roll over again ,and again,
blocking the sun and the light in one’s eye.
The brush sits, waiting in the palm.
The heart sits, waiting out the storm.
The canvass sits waiting
as empty as life seems to be.
But, artists know better than to fear
the light has died forever.
Artists simply wait out the storm,
paint the clouds above the crowd
of grey and dull thoughts;
and, write the words bold and loud.
Some days are more difficult than others,
thank goodness.
They challenge the artist and poet inside
and offer them a place to hide.
Until the sun rises high in the sky.
then artists and poets run outside,
paint and words flying far and wide.
Filed under POETRY
INTROVERTS
HIDING IN THE SPOTLIGHT, acrylic on canvass, Louise Annarino, 11/22/2022
Hiding in the spotlight
living out of sight
is a graceful dance
blocking the view
of the true you.
Light on your feet,
light dancing your own beat,
light blinding the audience’s eyes
to every flaw
no one ever saw,
except for you.
Hiding in the spotlight
is the safest place to be
on the stage,
where life plays out.
The place to dance for those
who give a performance
brave and strong and true.
I applaud you.
Filed under POETRY
CLOUDY DAYS
The rain came during the night.
Soft and silent blessings fell
to drench the earth
where mankind dwells.
But they slept on unaware
that helpful forces left a gift
to soften the soil
of hardened hearts.
They rose with the dawn,
faint light clouded over,
and misunderstood such peace
brought a chance to subside
the blazing heat of anger
in fearful eyes
scorched
by staring at the sun
of a too-bright false sunrise.
Cloudy days ahead
to soften the blow
when they awaken to the lies
that they have been told.
Every artist knows
one sees clearer
on cloudy days
when truth is crisp
despite the haze.
Or maybe,
because of it.
Filed under POETRY
LETTER TO MY MUSE
Too many hours have passed
in useless wondering
and thoughtless meandering
among ideas amassed
in wasted floundering.
Alas!
Why bother to address
this failed endeavor to write,
or paint, or garden, or feint
to the left or right to avoid the sight
of another grey day.
The sun has hidden away all motivation,
replacing joy with aggravation.
Too easily am I deprived of hope.
Too ready am I to sit and mope.
Self-disgust is never allowed;
not in this life, not in this house.
So here is the poem for today.
Now, leave me alone.
Just go away!
annarino writes 