Why Me?
Why me? Could be a test I guess
Not by a company but by life in general
It goes after you where you”re weak
Strikes where you”re armor is thin
Could be random aggravation
Not per a plan just chaos
Hard to fight that
So many sucker punches
Maybe underlying universal evil
Kicks everyone around basically the same
Sorta fair I guess but
Maybe fair ain”t all that great
***
Connecticut Artist Leif Nilsson
Connecticut Artist Leif Nilsson is an impressionist. A modern form of Monet in Connecticut. His art is wonderful. His site is so very well done so get out of here and go there.
Click on the pic above and use Cntrl + to enlarge. It’s high-res and you can zoom to the brush strokes. Very pretty close-up. With impasto the eyes loves to just look at ther brushstokes. They are part of the art.
The internet is about content and links. Our little show and tell gene is a bit more out of hand than most and our posts and links mean that we can help other artists be seen on their sites.
Artist Leif Nilsson is our content today. We like the way he goes for it.
Any artist knows the cost of materials and impasto is expensive. To paint Van Gogh’s paintings with his materials would cost a small fortune. We admire Leif’s work!
Ainu Madonna
Written the day before Easter
White light dreams through
each leaf
each dragonfly wing.
Sophia streams white light
black madonna of the well
virgin of the rocks.
Sunlight opens plum blossoms
warms rock my thighs
we entirely pierced by sunlight:
bear child me.
Their cries bring milk
in starry streams
brimming sweetness
self
bear cub
and baby girl
look into my eyes
as I look into theirs:
tug teat suck
and knead
my breasts jet warm white
streams that pool in
circle of fur curve of belly thighs arms.
We never chose to be
bodies in the milky way–
soft and tender flesh spinning through space
Mother Sophia, black madonna, rock virgin:
So o o o o Fi i i i i a a a a a
Quando você estava morrendo
Os meus pensamentos não eram
Da escuridão da sepultura,
Mas dos seus olhos,
Azuis como o céu,
Mornos como o oceano,
Mãos que acariciam
E coração que ama,
Um filho,
Um irmão,
Marido, pai,
Amante, amigo,
E quando eu morro
Os meus últimos pensamentos vão ser
De você.
***
Whitsuntide
——————————————————————————–
The lights were dying down and we
were in silence
across the fruits and the wines
there was to be a celebration
but now it was all over
and so we were nearly disconsolate
and fumbling
the dew drops on the now frosted sills
were bits and pieces
of expressive grandeur and
I could not be restrained anymore
and let go
my reins: you shrieked and fretted
and fumed but it was winter and soon
new centuries would tumble and fall
from the honest, worthy closets
before you could say Gee!
before it was to wildly be profane
and celebrate the lost cause of lost times
***