⋅ 2 February 2011

Wild Riot

That was the summer I painted my flowers.
I spent stifling hot days before blank canvas, brush in hand.
I stroked and defined a garden of beauty that I could no longer see.
My flowers filled that burgeoning space that grew inside;
They spread across my canvas, textured, alive, vibrant
while my world became small, overwhelmed, chaotic.
Slammed doors, raised voices, violent displays – I recognized none of these.
I slid into the paint; petals, leaves, stamens, pollen;
The paint covered; luxuriant in its ability to thickly buffer reality;
My life slowly fell apart as my flowers grew in lush abundance.
Sorrow died. Such glorious displays that flowed from my hand!
I was mindless, in the complete rapture of denial, while I painted.
I created a wild riot of color; each stroke bloomed in my mind,
bright and loud, to mute the blooming riot of wildness in my life.

Copyright 2010 Kimberly Hillard

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  • Beautifully expressed....The imagery is vivid. I love the metaphor that is carefully weaved throughout the entire piece...As usual, great write Kah! 2 Feb 2011 by

  • I love this Kah - poetry is serving something of the same function for me of late - although I think flowers most likely a prettier outcome :) 2 Feb 2011 by

  • very beautiful and inspiring. 2 Feb 2011 by

  • nice poem. 3 Feb 2011 by

  • The painted flowers are the calmness within the chaotic storm that you vehemently refuse to let in. Fantastic write! 4 Feb 2011 by

  • So beautiful, Kah. Such a true rendering of how art can create it's own space of wonder and calmness within a very hectic world. 5 Feb 2011 by

  • kah even Sarah Steele the painter of vivid flowers cold appreciate the luster in this poem. I am enamored with this one.(: 5 Feb 2011 by

  • ... and learned the beauty of paint ... and painted .......... Great! ..........**Luna 7 Feb 2011 by

  • Thanks to everyone who commented! I appreciate it - 7 Feb 2011 by

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