Poets & Painters/ Reflections: July 29 by William Patterson

Poets & Painters/ Reflections: July 29

love painters;
They love Renoir and
Monet. They love Jackson Pollak
and Henri Matisse.
Painters get a pass
that poets don’t.
You can hang a painting
on a wall – but
poems are assembled into books
and hurried off to dusty shelves.

are scoundrels;
absurd aristocrats;
poor listeners and alcoholics,
night workers & day laborers.
They are farm help and drug store clerks.
They’re truck drivers and shit faced bar patrons.
Poetry is after hours. Painting is afternoon at the lake.

live for light. Good poets work in the dark. Poets die in
New York City and Los Angeles . Painters
die anywhere they choose.

A good poet has no idea
from which direction death
will come. It might be a cold night in Baltimore
or a wet afternoon in Chelsea.
Good painters have
known the score for
Van Gogh saw it coming.
Damned revolvers.

RIP: Vincent Van Gogh: July 29, 1890

William Patterson

William Patterson. I am a technical writer by profession. I have written endless megabytes of documentation for corporate America. I’ve also written poetry for many years. My first (so far, my last), poetry collection titled, “Outrunning the Storm”, is available for purchase on my website: edsendoftheplanetbooks.com My poems are usually ripped from my life. Usually. Other times I just make this shit up. My novella, “The DUI Guy” is available for purchase on my website as well. I read when I am not writing. I prefer to read on the beach. I am a lifelong student of Hemingway. My wife is my muse. Some poets of influence are Weldon Kees, Richard Brautigan, Charles Bukowski, A.D. Winans, Alan Ginsberg, Julia Vinograd and Thomas James. I live in a beach community in Central Florida with my wife and my dog.

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