Pencilling Skies

Left to unravel on canvas
a small child with ambitions
of matyrdom, superherodom,
aerodromes and cavernous spaces
landlocked and lovelorn
taken by rolling yellow hills,
green veldt and grassy marshlands
capturing the outlines of youth
in carefree watercolours
earthy, pastoral trenchant swathes
of animals in their element
untamed and unfettered
by a conditioned landscape
whatever comprises a future man
is here
between the easel and the imagination
in painting, emotions are crystal
the world inherent, unremote.
these fields will come to be my sepulchre,
these canvases my mortal footprint
my immortal footprint
revealing more
of who I once was and came to be
than any collection of photographs
or verbal assembly of prose
whatever I am is in the brushstrokes
in the pencilling of unguarded skies
that I am working from.
there is who I am.

by Philip Hoom

Comments (1)

you use to many big words, when many small words will do just fine. you seem to want to act like you know something, by all the big words that you use, slow down write simple, and your work will be simple and easy to understand