i may be the fire
but then again
i may just be
the wood
and this is okay
for both are needed
for warmth in
and for and with
oneself
*
the hate is always
slopping around the light
but it dries when the clarity improves
into a blue existence
where the warmth wiggles in
to greet your face
in good hellos
and the hope
that you will share it
with what remains
an answer an answer an answer
to love
*
you are the art
that all other artists
attempt to embody
through art
though your heart knows
you do not
like paint getting
on your skin
too hard to wash off
too colourful to want to
*
once on the mountain
there is none
but only you
now taller perhaps
with no where to land
listening to the silence
where still the stars mock
in a dead laughter
Mizpellt wurdz 
you are the art
that all other artists
attempt to embody
through art
though your heart knows
you do not
like paint getting
on your skin
too hard to wash off
too colourful to want to
This is all great. The internal rhyme and the subject matter is spot on. “You do not like paint getting on your skin.” The syntax here is just a little screwed, but it works very well.
Your poem has a hopeful tone and I appreciate that, good stuff.
Posted by Harry | January 22, 2017, 4:01 pmharry, this is to kind, and i think i meant to make it screwy (but doesn’t everyone say that once screwed?).
Posted by kacperniburski | January 22, 2017, 6:17 pm