Response work to the F.B.I Gathering, 2015
Tuesday, 27 October 2015
Golden thorns
Secret stitches
Golden thorns.
Creative fingers
Twitching itching.
Final form
is getting close.
Saturday, 3 October 2015
2 smudged fingers
Desert place crossing
In sea of denial.
Two smudged fingers
record your style.
The wind is fierce
My hair is wild.
Just like it was
When I was child.
Two smudged fingers
Flatten and smooth.
Highlighting the way my figure moves.
The white of light
and blue waves of
fright.
Show exactly how I sat in sight.
Brown hair down and looped around.
My graffiti going underground.
The finger smudges
And before the judges.
I stand and look
A
Sinister smile.
Because this my friend
is sometimes my style.
And that is why I cannot smile.
Wrinkled cloth
of brown and block.
Every time I beat the clock.
Splatter Poem painting NO. 1
Friday, 2 October 2015
Clean Machine
I am not machine
Like you speak at me.
I work dam hard
But you attack me.
What got up your flame filled nose?
Be careful not to singe your toes.
I don’t take orders.
But.
If you ask politely.
I may respond in kindly.
Can’t do right, for doing wrong.
Everything here’s in your eyesight.
I hope that you can’t sleep tonight.
You’re not doing right.
You’re just looking for a fight.
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