It is in silence I create, I can decipher, I can relate
Random gems of unknown purity, bubble up from deep obscurity
Bubbling up clear unfettered, not encased in tunes so lettered
I know the silence that you seek, a place to ponder a place to speak
Not with words that close your mind, but open pathways all entwined
For in this place you can create, you can reflect, you can debate
And when all thoughts have quietened down, and questions lose their tensioned frown
You elevate from noisy spheres, and find that space set free from fear
A masterpiece is what you paint, random sketches of a saint.
DEE GRANT 2021
Photo by Simon Migaj on Pexels
I ain’t a poet and I know it cause I dont know all the rules. I read today that come what may it makes me look a fool.
Cause rhymes have rules and syllables and rhythm is the key. You can’t force words into your prose cause that’s just treachery.
But I’ve got the ‘abab’ rhyme scheme down pat it can’t be that damned hard. Just want to get it happening for my next greeting card.
It seems to me that all these rules might just be snobbery. I guess I’m just a poetry hack…and that’s just fine by me.
Artists like Monet were seen as hacks in France back in the day. Their art not seen as good enough their work just couldn’t stay.
Still I’ll research all I need to know rather than be a fool, then once I get the facts downpat then I’ll know this fool is cool.
BY DEE GRANT 2020
This photo is taken from the NSW Art Gallery. I like that it shows traditional art in a separate room to more contemporary work. My undergraduate studies were in fine arts. I was fascinated to hear the story of the Salon de Refuse in France back in the late 1800’s where many artists like Cezanne and Manet protested to Napolean Bonaparte. Their art had been rejected as they were untraditional and didn’t follow the rules.