PORTRAIT
What constitutes art farmore a portrait? A woman staring into vacant space that is the soul and eyes of the products creator. Come with me I will show You what I see...A gilded frame
Reflecting beauty, reflecting shame.
The hands of my critic searches for veins
Veins of life and substance pure.
Conjured by the need to express something more.
In this wretched realm of make believe and sin we cast our eyes upon the things we yearn for and search relentlessly for. My pain is the source of hope, my sorrow is the origin of my solemnity, my disappointment the catalyst for my determination.
The dark oils form the scene,
Pastels would deem obscene
Specious shadows fill the voids leaving nothing clean
Here comes my purpose, there goes my plight
Hung in the corner of my room, hung there to embrace the night.
Welcome once again to this land of make believe, this space of honest intentions, Welcome to this place where I hide my secrets plainly for the world to see. Where passion lies in thine eyes, I believe is the longing. The yearning for me that you hide secretly, secretly for me to see.
Copywright© 2006 Bekim Rauseo
Poetry by Bekim Rauseo
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Written on 2006-02-26 at 23:55
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