GOYA'S GHOST

Early tonight
Goya’s ghost
Subtly fought his way
Past my defenses
And gently kissed me
For a moment only
I could believe
In who I am
In who I will become
Past all doubts and fears
Beyond all practical expectations

Then as quietly as he had come
He slipped away from the voice
That cradled me only moments ago
And beyond into the grave
Inviting me to remember
Daring to not forget

MORNING CHILL

MORNING STAR

The artist in me

Void of inspiration
So I start to believe
The lies about myself
The tongue of my undoing
Whispers day after day

The same tongue that paints
That draws and molds
That frees me in moments
I left myself create
Abandons the artist in me
For too long