18 August 2012
Paintbrush, canvas, white and pure, Glass clean and simply perfect, Black and grey upon the floor, The paints are all acrylic.
Pick a colour, smooth, light grey, And plaster on the white, Let it run onto the floor, And let it dry all night.
Cover half, diagonal, black, The other, grey, shade white, With a straight and steady hand, Apply it twice and thrice.
Hold burnt charcoal in your hand, Divide the page in nine, Nine across, then nine below, Draw centre point on line.
Form a face, blur out the eyes, And paint it on the edge, A window sill, a heart which lies, That lost life 'gainst a pledge.
Onyx ash and blackened grey, A colour, pure, lamenting, Circles, three, two intertwined, The third, horizon dwelling.
Paint a line across the top, Thick black, with vines of nightshade, Grey star, sky, abyss up high, Acrylic, dark and forbade.
Water, crystal, smeared with ink, Wash over canvas surface, Let the paint run, timeless mix, While painting death amorphous.
Painting Death • Opuss № I