(no subject)

[shotgunhomicide]

I'm obstinate.

I want every moment to be as gorgeous as crayons are.
I want to draw pictures on lovely white sheets of paper;
to paint clumsy freedom, to draw an eye that never weeps;
a sky, a feather and a leaf pertaining to the sky-
to paint green night and pale apple sunrise.

I want to paint portraits of the morning
to draw smiles witnessed by the morning dew.
To draw the freshest, most painless love..
to draw the lover of my mind's eye.

I want to paint distant landscapes;
to draw the clear horizon and the surf
to draw many surging streams
to draw mountains coated with pastel fuzz-
let every trepidation of a quiet spring
mark the birth of a tiny flower.

I want to draw windows all over the earth
To let eyes accustomed to the darkness learn the habit of light.
I want to draw the wind, mountain peaks
Paint the dreams of the people of the East,
To colour in the sea.

And last of all on some stray corner of the sheet;
I want to draw myself, koala bear
perched in a dour forest, on a bough, in a daze
with no home, no heart left behind in a far off land
with only an abundance of dreams
like berries and big doe eyes.

I hope, ponder, but do not know why
no one gives me crayons-
not even a moment of color.
I only have me,
my fingers and my paints.
I can only tear off strip after strip
of lovely clean paper;
to flutter off in search of butterflies
to fade far, far from today.