What's on My Mind Today...

Drip and Splash

Me,

I drip and splash --

Just like Jackson, I've been told --

Through the numbingly prosaic,
Blurred and blended days
Of my quirky little pilgrimage,

Entirely bare-foot and lacking any caution,

Across the blood-drawing shards of time.

Planning is anathema.

I stumble through the stacks

Of the virtual library of my mind,

Blindfolded sans equilibrium,

Then stop dead in my tracks
When the spirit moves me,
Regaining what little composure
I imagined however foolishly I had,
Then choosing that one thin volume high above me --
The one with the frayed green spine
And coffee stains on the cover --

The one lone book, I feel certain, that has
The emotional heft and singular power
To provoke me into action
And make at least nominal sense
Of the next fifty moments of my aliveness.

I drip,
And then I splash.

And drip and splash again.

And then I fold up my easel,

Clean out my brushes,

Don my favorite hat --

The one that can no longer contain

My ropey Repunzeling hair (not to mention
The headstrong turbulence of my murcurial emotions) --

And head out into the traffic-choked streets
Of the urban wilderness,

Moving less than carefully --

A brave and wreckless toreador,

Surrounded by chromed-and-lacquered

Pavement-pawing bulls

With raucus horns and glaring headlights --

And me, more determined than ever
To harness the relentless onrush of those screaming beasts

And that angry pride of internal lions --

Or perhaps even occasional bursts of contentment --
That invade my teeming psyche

And make me want to paint.

RB

January 4th, 2011