Monday, May 21, 2018

Ode to the pioneers of modern art .

  

                How their spirits

                       Revelled in the freedom

                            Of imagining  -

                 colours and lines,

                              That are just themselves,

                                     And yet magentas magic,

                                                 Fires us -

           Seas of ultramarine

                 And white wisps of waves -

              Delicate chinoiserie,

                      Taunting galligraphics,

                                 Tachists gestured slash-




         Explosions of colour are the colours themselves-

                               Purple is freed from funereal pomp,

                    Black becomes black 

                                 White is what it always was-

                         And yellow shows no fear -

                              A child with a paintbox in its hands!



      Immured from idolatry,

                       Forms and colours create

                              Their own wild destiny

                                      A contour that is not a tree,

                       Pigment that is not a sky -

                                A form that is not a breast

                                      Or hillside- 

                              And yet, the essence of all things. 












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