Patter, patter, sounded the rain on the shudder
Unbeknownst to the birds flutter
Forgotten by the suns splendor
Discarded by the thunders roar
Thrown away by the king's stare
What was forgotten was always there
Upon this day
Was the day he would appoint a hare
For you see
It was not without regret
That all the king's offspring's
Had met their death
He pronounced a year's past
"A son will come again!!"
But little to his court's dismay
The king's loins did not obey
So now he had agreed
Stubbornly with wine and mead
To choose a hare
That would fit his need
There were many too chose
Some as gloomy as the day
Some others as fair
As a day in May
Sir Alex of the High Lands
A man with regrets
Who found his own way to cope
By spending on women with no intent to elope
Sir Barren of the Gold Lands
A young man with a thirst for knowledge
But in today's' world
He would drink himself through college
Sir Gale of the Swamp Lands
As rough as they came
Ask him for a battle strategy
He would only shrug and say "Na"
Sir Roger of the Sunshine Lands
An exceptional vocabulary
For someone who
The girls knew was not their ordinary
Last but not least
An unknown man had stepped forward
From the lands of Dragons some said
They said he would breath fire
Until his competition lay wasted
The competitors gathered in the great hall
Staring each other down
And squires compromising with each other
So their lords would not maul
"Welcome, welcome all to the event of the day
Time has past and our kingdom need obey
Whoever sets forth from this competition today,"
Announced the King's secretary, to the applause deserved of fame
"Step forth great lords and stranger
Introduce yourself before the king
Bow down slightly not too low for a lady
But low enough to look a little petty"
"I am Sir Alex of the High Lands
I come before you willing to serve
Even to give up
My love for whores"
"Bold statement indeed
We know how you fancy them
Even more than your drink and mead"
"I am Sir Barren of the Gold Lands
Come forth to strike down evil
And cut back on the liquor
So much as to fill a thimble"
"Me be Ser Gale of swamp lands
Rid me of these fancy boys
Let the kingdom be ruled
By me who strike down hundreds of boars"
"Now, now, Sir Gale, musn't you fret
For you have to accost myself, Sir Roger
Before the kingdom you claim
Fails to be the king's no longer"
"Ay, a silver tongue he is
Come forth to battle
Just remember Sir Roger
Your hair will sorely be badgered,"
The secretary splattered
"CUT YOUR TONGUE KIND SIR!"
The dragon screamed
"I am the only true victor
The person whose traveled far and wide
And seen what this kingdom
Must conquer to reach the sublime"
"My, my, the competition is fierce
Dear king wouldn't you say?
Let's start the proceedings
And get onto to the dismay"
"Well spoken kind secretary
Forgotten deeds will be not
SET FORTH THE TARGETS
BRING OUT THE BOWS
LET'S SEE THE AIM
OF THESE ENLIGHTENED LORDS!"
Friday, May 25, 2012
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
A Picture of a Love
"No....no....I still don't think it's there," Robert said; stroking his chin and holding back a tear. It was so close.
Steven shrugged his head to the side; giving the exasperated look only artists seemed to give. His blond long hair flung over his eyes and, for a moment, he was too distressed to even move it away. Yes, he did not mind taking Roberts money again and again but there was a point where it became to over bearing and too much of a lost cause. Steven assumed this was as any other case when a perfectionist came looking after a painting; anything he did would never do. His wallet was happy but his ego took a hit every time Robert did that shrug and shake.
"Is it the coloring this time? I felt on the last one the hair wasn't bright enough. From the picture you gave me the blonde hair showed hints of gray and I thought to maybe dim those out a little more and add brightness would give the women the beauty she deserved," Steven said; stepping forward to stand side by side to Robert; waiting for him to give him something.
"I noticed that. It seems next time you should call me before doing that. As you can guess I'm a very particular man Steven and there was a reason I gave you that exact picture."
"Well, maybe you could share with me that reason. Right now you haven't even told me who this women is in the picture. You're going off the work I am getting from a connection with a Polaroid. Maybe if I knew a story behind it; of the person herself."
Robert's face turned and his hand left his chin. His eyes were watery and spoke of pain past. He contained it well enough to not make it awkward but Steven knew he had found at least something; even if Robert chose to storm out of the studio and not talk to him again.
"Maybe I have been unfair...but....its a touchy subject. Let me describe her to you; as I once saw her when her beauty had not eclipsed that of earth's greatest offering.
She was not the women I first thought I loved but she was the first women I loved. It was the most adult form of infatuation you could find and I was perplexed by the feeling when I first saw her. Her blond hair was as bright as you painted it now and her smile was like a warm fire in the cold of winter. She was quick witted and humorous too the point of instant comfort. I knew exactly what I was getting myself into that day, fifteen years ago and I knew that I wanted to live ever second I was with her like it was my last. I'm lucky I did," Robert said; his eyes drying and a smile crossing his face.
"You married her then?" Steven asked.
"Oh yes. It was the best day of my life. Only a few months after we met. We were both so young and indestructible; back when the world was at our feet."
"I know the feeling," Steven said; thinking how stupid he was to be frustrated with this man who had found true love.
Steven continued to look at Robert and then looked back at the painting. This was a painting of a forty something old women; not the young fox that Robert had described. The wrinkles were starting to show and her eyes had years beyond her age. Now that Steven had looked and heard some the hair didn't match the face; it was more artificial then anything. If he had only known.
"Why do you want to see her like this? Why not when she was younger?" Steven asked.
Robert continued looking at the picture for what seemed to be an eternity. Then he picked up his hat and coat from the table to his right and turned to face Stephen. His eyes weren't wet and he seemed the most calm and composed as he had the whole night. He smiled at Steven and took a deep breath in.
"She is what we all are as we grow old, Steven. Shades and shadows of former years mixed into the frailness that points to our realization of fulfillment and dissatisfaction paints her face in that photo. She looks the most human out of any time in her life, the most natural. It's not her looks I want to remember Steven but it is her genuineness and humanity that I want to stay with me. Whether I can find that in a piece of art I don't know. I just want something else to be able to show what I feel," Robert said; sticking his hat on.
"If its something so true Robert, it doesn't need justification."
Robert smiled and patted Steven on the shoulder. Steven watched as the man walked away and out of the studio. Steven looked at the painting and gave a sigh. Ready to start anew, ready to express himself.
Steven shrugged his head to the side; giving the exasperated look only artists seemed to give. His blond long hair flung over his eyes and, for a moment, he was too distressed to even move it away. Yes, he did not mind taking Roberts money again and again but there was a point where it became to over bearing and too much of a lost cause. Steven assumed this was as any other case when a perfectionist came looking after a painting; anything he did would never do. His wallet was happy but his ego took a hit every time Robert did that shrug and shake.
"Is it the coloring this time? I felt on the last one the hair wasn't bright enough. From the picture you gave me the blonde hair showed hints of gray and I thought to maybe dim those out a little more and add brightness would give the women the beauty she deserved," Steven said; stepping forward to stand side by side to Robert; waiting for him to give him something.
"I noticed that. It seems next time you should call me before doing that. As you can guess I'm a very particular man Steven and there was a reason I gave you that exact picture."
"Well, maybe you could share with me that reason. Right now you haven't even told me who this women is in the picture. You're going off the work I am getting from a connection with a Polaroid. Maybe if I knew a story behind it; of the person herself."
Robert's face turned and his hand left his chin. His eyes were watery and spoke of pain past. He contained it well enough to not make it awkward but Steven knew he had found at least something; even if Robert chose to storm out of the studio and not talk to him again.
"Maybe I have been unfair...but....its a touchy subject. Let me describe her to you; as I once saw her when her beauty had not eclipsed that of earth's greatest offering.
She was not the women I first thought I loved but she was the first women I loved. It was the most adult form of infatuation you could find and I was perplexed by the feeling when I first saw her. Her blond hair was as bright as you painted it now and her smile was like a warm fire in the cold of winter. She was quick witted and humorous too the point of instant comfort. I knew exactly what I was getting myself into that day, fifteen years ago and I knew that I wanted to live ever second I was with her like it was my last. I'm lucky I did," Robert said; his eyes drying and a smile crossing his face.
"You married her then?" Steven asked.
"Oh yes. It was the best day of my life. Only a few months after we met. We were both so young and indestructible; back when the world was at our feet."
"I know the feeling," Steven said; thinking how stupid he was to be frustrated with this man who had found true love.
Steven continued to look at Robert and then looked back at the painting. This was a painting of a forty something old women; not the young fox that Robert had described. The wrinkles were starting to show and her eyes had years beyond her age. Now that Steven had looked and heard some the hair didn't match the face; it was more artificial then anything. If he had only known.
"Why do you want to see her like this? Why not when she was younger?" Steven asked.
Robert continued looking at the picture for what seemed to be an eternity. Then he picked up his hat and coat from the table to his right and turned to face Stephen. His eyes weren't wet and he seemed the most calm and composed as he had the whole night. He smiled at Steven and took a deep breath in.
"She is what we all are as we grow old, Steven. Shades and shadows of former years mixed into the frailness that points to our realization of fulfillment and dissatisfaction paints her face in that photo. She looks the most human out of any time in her life, the most natural. It's not her looks I want to remember Steven but it is her genuineness and humanity that I want to stay with me. Whether I can find that in a piece of art I don't know. I just want something else to be able to show what I feel," Robert said; sticking his hat on.
"If its something so true Robert, it doesn't need justification."
Robert smiled and patted Steven on the shoulder. Steven watched as the man walked away and out of the studio. Steven looked at the painting and gave a sigh. Ready to start anew, ready to express himself.
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