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Rated: E · Poetry · Arts · #2244834
How a painter sees the world
The slow strumming of a guitar
like the music box stuck inside my head
filling me with inspiration
An inky window
the polar opposite but exact replica
of the blank canvas
on my gesso stained table
The silver footrest shining
like my paint-speckled palette knife
basking in the excitement of new creation
Black, plastic armrests like glass bead paste
creating bumps along my smooth skin
from the chill of each opening door
The orange dotted screen flashing the time
and where we're headed
the dots in a pointillism plan of my life
Streaks of light flash outside the window
blending with the night sky
as my brush blends within my routine
The dim, fluorescent lights filling the bus
as the fog that fills my mind when I tire
The coins being emptied in the paybox
like the swirling, murky water of thoughts
into my dreams
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