Art & Paintings

The Fire

Posted on by A. Long

passionate lunatics 

slaves to the cycles of the moon

dizzy as fire water

cold as snow

hot as adrenaline pumped thighs, escaping spanish bulls 

pulled together

like magnets

yanked apart just as easily

forever and never. they will always be.

jealous…insecure…drama kings and queens prancing across life’s stage

unstable nitroglycerin

mixture of pure joy.

The laughs and smiles

the sighs and fights

but it’s really all bottled in the way she cries

the sudden, salty, and sweet.

the only way to get the crazy out.

the only way to sustain without burning out.

The fire 

will help us keep warm

even feed you, but won’t 

let us live 

if we let it live       too long.

 

 

To A Young Painter

Posted on by A. Long

To show the lab’ring bosom’s deep intent,

And thought in living characters to paint,
When first thy pencil did those beauties give,
And breathing figures learnt from thee to live,
How did those prospects give my soul delight,
A new creation rushing on my sight?
Still, wond’rous youth! each noble path pursue,
On deathless glories fix thine ardent view:
Still may the painter’s and the poet’s fire
To aid thy pencil, and thy verse conspire!
And may the charms of each seraphic theme
Conduct thy footsteps to immortal fame!
High to the blissful wonders of the skies
Elate thy soul, and raise thy wishful eyes.
–Phyllis Wheatley

Trust

Posted on by A. Long

Trust me

like Pharaohs calling to rain clouds in a drought

Boundless grains of salt parch the Earth

I watch the skies open mouth

Trust me

as sure as death is to sing swiftly to cold bodies

Let’s make ours warmer

fill the space in the universe that propels us closer

The truth without trust

are only falsities lying in remission

repeating omissions

waiting for lies to come to fruition

Trust be nimble

& I’ll be Jack jumping back to the candle stack

that first lit these rhymes for you

Just trust

the way infants knowingly cling to their mothers

small fists of utter dependence

We sway with an unparalleled rhythm

and the pyramid kings have all gone home

I now call you to stand at your throne

I trust you to answer with that

regal swagger I know you have

This is me at my best

throwing down dented armor and all other guises

I trust you to tell me the truth

or do you not know what your disguise is?

Tucked in, patiently pacifying your disgust

I peer into your eyes sometimes

and only see what could’ve been

 

 

 

bathsheba

Posted on by A. Long

how it was    it was

as if all of the blood in my body

gorged

into my loin

so that even my fingers grew stiff

but cold

and the heat of my rod

was my only burning

desire

desire my only fire

and whether

i loved her

i wanted her whatever she was

whether a curse

or the wife of Uriah

— Lucille Clifton

Women’s Plight

Posted on by A. Long

 

Change is a bitter strange fruit

that shapes at my crevices

the hurts sting

nothing is static tree

the world opened up for me

whispering sweet things and

promises that are easily broken

can i change back

shed knowledge for ignorance’s bliss

i can’t do that

Adam’s rib is in too deep

heat chases me across the plains

grazes my thighs, moist

the inside of a pomegranate

is that how i taste

The sky quakes with hate

as the All Mighty desecrates the landscape

out cast

lone harlot

He pushed me aside

to stay in It’s good graces.

 

 

The One

Posted on by A. Long

Everyday you get up for the one.

That Alicia Keys song that was kind of nice once, that’s for the one.

When their eyes feel like the only ones to have ever seen you, that’s the one.

When you can count the beauty marks on his forearm and remember each design, then that’s the one.

Remember that they like honey over sugar,

Remember that their shoulders are broad for a girl, but perfect.

The one isn’t perfection.

Remember that the one is not perfection.

The one will be the one who likes you as a person.

The one will be the one who hates tattoos but loves yours.

The one will be all you need.

Miss the one.

Hold out for the one.

Remember not to pull away,

to tell yourself the truth,

to always tell the one the truth,

because they will always deserve the truth.

The one will deserve a better part of you.

The one may be a dream, question their existence.

The one may be the one to show up when you least expect it.

When everything’s great or all hell breaks loose,

that hole in your heart,

that strength you need,

that one,

that one thing that makes it worthwhile,

well,

I guess that’s the one.

 

Who

Posted on by A. Long

who loves me?

who knows…

who knows himself.

who loves

who would leave.

who might?

who needs to be better.

who can tell in this world,

who loves me.

who trusts…

who trusts himself?

maybe

who lives in maybes

who regrets this.

who is who is.

who can blame her?

who can. 

who did.

who didn’t?

who wants more?

who always wants more than this.

who can blame him? 

who wants to love harder.

who hurts?

who is hurting.

who has bled.

who sees red. 

who doesn’t see me. 

who, are you…

who, where are you?!

who knew i could beg

who knew

who knew himself.

who loved me. 

who left.

who could blame her. 

who did. 

 

Kneel

Posted on by A. Long

we are born

cradling our knees

closely

like a guitarist plucking strings

holding onto the spark

exposed torsos

i wont kneel with my back to God

try to recount His words

im bound from heavens doors

by these blankets

while i lay and pray

the devil dances on this mattress

i fetally rock

between heaven and hell

when sleep swoops in

eyes faded to black, nothing phases me

thoughts fall

like dominoes

simmering hot coals extinguished

dark ash my witness

 

morning peeks

and i know

holy war’s peace

is somewhere between

death and defeat