The Inkless Pen

Sitting here with no ink in my pen

Looking for art in everything

And it’s here

I can see it.

Remember

That night,

Those nights and days.

Stories from the Racketeers Raconteur

(Or Raconteurs, I’m not quite sure)

It was there

(...and dressed in fur).

It was there again in the dirty room

(It’s always there)

This time it was painted blue,

On paper done by you

(Yes you)

It was you.

Someone cooked it

Sliced it, diced it,

Broiled, cured, and basted it

For me.

It was art I ate,

I remember the taste.

Do you?

Creations of nature

Re-creations of nature

Back lit with a bright

Bright mourning light

At dusk

Music sung

With a moistened tongue,

Sounds spun

For the sake of fun

And water colours run

Into one

All is done

And done

And done

New day, new way,

New life begun.

Sitting here with no ink in my pen

Seeing art in everything.

(And Love)