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No Picasso

February 23rd, 2013 by Magdalena Tabor
I grew my hair out
And took to my paints.
Stared at the empty canvas
At what would emerge.
My brushes were brittle
And half tubes of oil
Had hardened,
But I as on the verge
Of something Great.
Or so I imagined.
Burnt Sienna.
Cerulean Blue.
Alizarin Crimson.
And so I drew.

Something inside me
Clamored like armor.
The point of my pencil splintered
Before I began.
The last page in my sketchpad
Was spoiled with smudge
And ruined,
And I slammed down my hand
For what I imagined
Would be Great.
Burnt Sienna.
Cerulean Blue.
Alizarin Crimson.
Now what would I do?

I pulled my hair back
And got in the Jeep.
In quest of new brushes, colors,
Acrylics and oils.
But the moment had passed.
Inspiration had fled.
My plan to paint my
Masterpiece
Was foiled.
Great.
Just imagine.
Burnt Sienna.
Cerulean Blue.
Alizarin Crimson.
No Picasso for you.

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2 Responses to “No Picasso”

  1. K. Scot Sparks Says:

    …I like that; ‘nice. : )

  2. magdalena Says:

    Thanks, K.

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