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.