Saturday, November 6, 2010

To Paint

I wish I could paint...
I thought as I gazed upon his work...
alive with color and imagination,
a craftsman of creativity.
But...
I paint with words...
images in the mind with deft tongue and playful spirit.
My muse is the melancholy melody that plays in my soul.
Words like shotgun blasts to the common man.
My "filter", I've shed...like a snake sheds it's skin,
bare and naked to the world.
With truth and with fire,
and brief bits of rage...
I speak, and I spit...
a tiger in cage.
Words rolled out like dough,
this baker...she cooks!
Phrases caressed on the tongue,
with a twist...
and a smile.
I'm brazen...
I'm smokin',
this babe...
she's got style!
I'm wild and I'm free,
and I say what I like.
Come closer, my darling...
I don't nibble...
I bite.
©2008∞Copperhead



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