I am a big believer in transforming our experience into narrative. Humans only understand themselves and the greater reality around them, through the stories they tell. We are all artists and writers trying to recount our personal histories. This process can go wrong though, if we take the process too seriously; if we begin to mistake the story for reality. Reality is the chaos of fate’s imagination. We should stop from time to time and step out of our narratives to take a look at the mess that was lost from our storytelling. That is what this poem is about. As always, this poem, as it appears here, is in first-draft format. In life, the first-draft is all we get. We leave a trail of first-draft scribbles. So let’s not be too hard on ourselves. The past is the best teacher we could have.

Let me know your thoughts on the poem and the ideas it tries to express. 🙂

Studio Floor

is the paint that’s spilt, not the brush-born
story on the canvas

is the speckled landscape
on the studio floor

let us now
walk that landscape

we’ll begin 
in the colour 
of mountain stone 
wrapped in the living green
always loved
and follow the mottled path
of childhood greys
to find
stains that look like
swept-up into the blood-
red of a sunrise

we’ll continue
and sink into the colour of noise
the buzz
the seasons of little hands and cold toes
where time
hiccups and smells like salt
and ice cream wrapped in sand
and the white of gulls 
painted onto an incoming tide
of dark skies

and then
we’ll find ourselves in a carnival
of terrible dreams
to the path we’ve lost
we’ll surrender to the colour of angry days
to the colour of love


without a hand to hold, without
a reason to go on.

that’s when we’ll find 
brush-born stories are never real
holding colour hostage
like sound boxed-in, like canvas
on a gallery wall worn thin
by the lies it tells

that’s when we’ll find 
painted lines 
dug deep into the colour of our skin
from the many days we spilt life
the studio floor.

Leave a Reply

Scroll to Top
error: Alert: Content selection is disabled!!
%d bloggers like this: