AP 7

The Painter Bleeds Poetry

It’s not the blood of a painter
that pumps through my veins
but the blood of a poet.

Across my canvas
words scream out
through visual description.

Metaphor making it self seen
to be heard, to be read
to be left unexplained.

The line’s the thing
flowing from my brush
from point to point.

With no final destination
can you hear my painting
as you read its structure.

Step into the union
of visual speech
into the painted word.


- after the above painting by Anna Pimkhova