Poem no 5

I have a series of paintings in red and black.

Some sixteen of them in all.

Before I did not like the colour black

And rarely used red.

Then I developed bad headaches

They did not leave me day nor night

And I had a real fright.

I started painting in red and black

They all showed people in fearful pain

With buildings burning going in flame

Such fearful sights that I did see

Days and nights in nightmares.

I painted a woman in a pit

With vultures feeding on it.

Then a phoenix arose from the fire

The woman put on a new attire

My headaches left me and I got fit

I am in love with red and black.

My canvasses are full of rivers of blood

With black oozing out like night

I find it such a restful sight.

Red and black has given me a new vision

A deep insight and understanding

To love the archetypal  and old

As they are both pure gold.

—

 

 

 

                                                                                Poem no 5

I have a series of paintings in red and black.

Some sixteen of them in all.

Before I did not like the colour black

And rarely used red.

Then I developed bad headaches

They did not leave me day nor night

And I had a real fright.

I started painting in red and black

They all showed people in fearful pain

With buildings burning going in flame

Such fearful sights that I did see

Days and nights in nightmares.

I painted a woman in a pit

With vultures feeding on it.

Then a phoenix arose from the fire

The woman put on a new attire

My headaches left me and I got fit

I am in love with red and black.

My canvasses are full of rivers of blood

With black oozing out like night

I find it such a restful sight.

Red and black has given me a new vision

A deep insight and understanding

To love the archetypal  and old

As they are both pure gold.

 

                                                                                Poem no 5

I have a series of paintings in red and black.

Some sixteen of them in all.

Before I did not like the colour black

And rarely used red.

Then I developed bad headaches

They did not leave me day nor night

And I had a real fright.

I started painting in red and black

They all showed people in fearful pain

With buildings burning going in flame

Such fearful sights that I did see

Days and nights in nightmares.

I painted a woman in a pit

With vultures feeding on it.

Then a phoenix arose from the fire

The woman put on a new attire

My headaches left me and I got fit

I am in love with red and black.

My canvasses are full of rivers of blood

With black oozing out like night

I find it such a restful sight.

Red and black has given me a new vision

A deep insight and understanding

To love the archetypal  and old

As they are both pure gold.

—

 

 

 

No. 4

Hockney is the greatest living British Painter

Melvin Bragg is his buddy

They Broth grew up in working class families

In the north of England

Hackney was in Bradford

And Bragg was in Wigton in Cumbria

Hackney’s father restored prams for a living

Hackney carried all his art materials in a pram

and wheeled it to school.

And painted in five classes a week.

He went to America and became famous.

Now he has a big house in Normandy

And also a large Mansion in Bridlington

He wears a cloth cap and looks like a

Country Bumpkin

And is extremely dead

I am not fond of his portraits

Brag’s portrait is not to my taste

But his landscapes are just so beautiful

His stain glass windows in the Windsor Chapel are

Just divine!                                                              —