The Ravenous Mess (2012)


The ravenous mess curdles,
untouched by the strokes
of a painter whose certainty
exceeds his ability–staring,
staring at the bright brew,
the jumble of hue, as if to
ensure an extant genocide against
the mess’ rue: A shady breath!
the shady sleep, the shade of misfortune,
a shade too deep. Yet there it sits,
dabbed by the natural longings that convert
artists into geniuses; Natural, drab longings,
like the night sky that lacks astronomy
(the gazer’s fret!), or the dreamer
who seeks slumber by the awareness of breath,
O, to touch that artist’s tress!
Pessimism toward the pessimistic shade
has left this painting stressed.
The curdling mess, a ravenous grease,
drowns in a faucet, the artist’s release.

Daniel Ray Thomason, 2012©

“(rose)”; or “the shadow that split the sun-dial.”

I’ve grown curious —
for isn’t curiosity a seed,
some gallant cocoon nestled
neath this bedded reflection
of the moon?

surrendering itself indefinitely
to the idea that chance is a rain
capable of uprooting the rose
that blooms in moments
yet unseen: its lucent fans,
like bruised scarlet wings,
flit like words upon my wintry page —
and with fervent hands
I plant these things
where rain can softly seep neath
the sailing shade of a warm

and in a rosy moment
where seconds pluck petals
from its sprouting spine,
I cannot help but grow curious,

for I am faintly mesmerized
by this thought
that rose softly as our eyes aligned:

“What flower breathes behind the iris of your mind?”

where rain is felt.

unsure today/ i tread in thought under pine umbrellas/ peering through this april haze into my mind’s universal fallout shelter/ pardoning my heart of all earthly treasures/ for truth is beauty/ and beauty a merciless pleasure

that frees me from the woes of this earth’s dead weather.//