I cannot dwell in might have been,
In would have been
Or should have been
The past has turned it’s back on me
I’m lost in life, a refugee
It’s only now, in the ghosts I see
I can realise that the ghost is me.
I came across an article on the news about baby chimps being taken from their families when just days or weeks old, by poachers and then being sold on as pets or for who knows what dreadful other reasons. The chimp pictured was apparently rescued by some organisation and is being looked after with a view to returning it to the wild at some point. I was so taken by the photograph and by the story that I decided to go out of my comfort zone and try to capture the look in the chimp’s eye. I thought that IF it turned out OK then I would perhaps try to sell it and any money raised would be sent to a charity dedicated to rescuing chimps from such situations. So if anyone out there wants an original painting of an orphaned chimp. . . . . . . . . !!!
I have just read an update, it seemed the chimp was named Nemley and has since died, despite the care he was given. What a terrible, terrible, shame.
Please share this listing, perhaps if enough people are made aware of these despicable acts, then maybe, just maybe we can turn the tide and stop this mindless slaughter.
It was like looking in to the sun itself
You were so bright, I just couldn’t see
who it was I was looking at,
nor who was looking at me.
Is this the year, that came and went
To take with it your fading scent
Of all that was but is no more
That wreaked it’s havoc through my core
Is this the year that took my life
And slashed at it with bloody knife
That cut and rent with savage bliss
Leaving me the wreck that is
Will next year year bring in gentle song
The means to right all that is wrong
To bring back hope and all it means
To light a light and kindle dreams
What does this year before me hold
What stories, tales, will it unfold
What will it bring in songs anew
To fill that space that once was you.
This is an original painting, in water soluble oils, from an old black and white photograph I came across. I may well revisit it, but for the time being it is ‘finished’.
In fact looking at it now, it will certainly be reworked at some time, so it will reappear in a slightly different guise in the future.
I was caught within the headlights
It was August 17
Nowhere left to hide myself
As the arrows pierced my dreams
I painted the Madonna
And wrote my life in Rhyme
Of all the things I might have had
The one thing left was time
Time can be a lonely friend
And pain a heavy load
Now vultures sit in easy dance
On the wires along my road.