Meets The Eye

 

 

 

Featured art by Yashika Tiwari. Click title image to visit her studio.

 

 

Listen to Live Reading

 

 

 

Listen to Suggested Audio

 

Gary Numan “Are Friends Electric (Instrumental)”

 

 

 

 

The path of an artist can be desperately lonely
A thousand dismays
Each one triggered remotely
If only our words were received with due care
Then we may not be quite so reluctant to share
One word maybe two tend to dress each response
Requested no less, or else wait be prolonged
Our hearts and our souls
Take a most weighty knock
When deprived of all breathable air
In the words of Shakespeare
“Makes summer’s welcome thrice more wish’d, more rare”
No small wonder dear fellow despaired

 

The path of an artist can be desperately lonely
But sometimes it leads to a clearing
Should solitary flame be kindled kindly on occasion
Then suddenly, it makes shrewd sense revealing
Each masterpiece passing with nary a flicker
The wintry bleak descends that much thicker
Howbeit, fresh springs bursting forth unforeseen
Set summer scene redundant of theme bitter
This is where we artists give our every selves to cause
This is where catharsis paints with finer strokes than broad
This is where our hearts and souls feel cherished and adored
This is why we leave cracks in the doors

 

Come inside and you will find us
In our natural habitats
This is where the silence speaks
With majesty and gravitas
The path of an artist can be desperately lonely
When tools of inspiration greaten handicap
Inspired to perform
We set up for the fall
Once fruits of our labour
In vast scatter sprawl
One glance maybe two tend to pass by in fleet
While the artist within bids retreat

 

There are so many ways to be seen
A true artist feels blessed in receipt
Yet, the one most waylaid
Is the part where we say
“Let me tell you what I felt about that piece”
The path of an artist can be desperately lonely
So many overlook the air we breathe
Seems so tragic to me
Which is why I dare dream
Of a stunning renovate to running theme
Elevate an artist’s mind
And magic will be made, in kind
They’ll care to leap and take it blind
Prepared to bleed for tastes refined
Lift to wuthering fresh heights
All those inclined to grace our flight
Our hearts and our souls
Gladly laid on the line
Be gentle
Be brave
Meet our eyes

 

 

 

 

 

Richard Charles Stevens

 

Keeper of The Crimson Quill

 

 

 

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© Copyright: Rivers of Grue™ Shadow Spark Publishing™

 

 

1 Comment

  1. Wonderfully captures how most artists of all type feel when felt unseen. You feel like a song who’s lyrics aren’t heard. But melodies stick and PLAY is pressed again.

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