The following poem is inspired by a mirthful and charming poem called pigment rebellion by
I would like to add my own verse as a complementary response. Though poets may pack away their brushes, hope is not lost, for they nonetheless continue to paint. (I’m sure there’s a painter who’ll have my head for this.)The Pigment Tradition
Body and Soul they fight,
Like Man and taken Wife,
War of attrition in red pastel,
A wrestle to paint the sight.
Word and Meter tussle,
To catch the busy bustle,
Between the canvas and the brush,
And not each other muffle.
The pigment tradition breathes,
With air of please and ease,
And sweetest vapors of pungent color,
Lighten heads and buckle knees.
We write upon the basis,
Of drafting mind’s oasis,
By sketching voice onto our sense;
Ut pictura poesis.
This was an enjoyable read. The flow and rhythm gently sailed me through the stanzas, while the words painted beautiful images.
This is wonderful! I love where you took my poem.