Give me your tired and weary art companions
Give to me your empty canvas crying out for media
Pens which have never seen paper
Brushes thirsting for colour and chalk long abandoned for charcoal.
Give to me the tired potters wheel and paintings that never came to be.
Left to dry like leaves in the sun so to is the oil of an old painter’s pallet.
Give them to me,
Frail and frazzled brushes, sponges bruised with Indian ink,
Cloth scrunched in cupboards, dishes cracked, left and forgotten beneath the sink of your shops.
Give to me your crooked, rusted knives longing to be caressed one more time, just one more time.
Needing, requiring like breath, like shelter, like life itself to be drawn across a world of acrylics once more, just once more.
Give them to me.
Copyright 2008 © F. Magdalene @ Sundrip Journals
All rights reserved
This is a poem about tools used in art that we discard or neglect on a daily basis.
The poem just sort of popped up when I tried to revive a few old gel pens.