poetry
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Metamorphosis by Asher Jay
Metamorphosis: – an original literary work by ©Asher Jay 2013 I have been the wild horse that could not be tamed, the unpredictable storm, the loose cannon, the changing wind, the winding ocean current the meandering river, the vagrant cloud and I have always found the other to be a shackle This maybe why I have never been the sails of a sturdy oak ship never the salt by the pepper shaker the oars to a hand carved canoe, the ornate brass legs to a rosewood table nor the buttons of a bespoke shirt something in you has left me feeling more button than horse, more salt than storm more…
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My Chronic Condition by Asher Jay
This original artwork was created using scans of napkins that were stained with paint from cleaning brushes that were used to render other canvases in progress. To me it represents both process and the pulse of the remainder from an equation, much like love. So I wound up writing a little poem about the feeling that fueled the piece: My Chronic Condition: Asher Jay Cannot function when you are near You’re in all I do and say, it’s clear I am wrapped around your little finger, Thoughts of you do make me linger. Every word you utter a cerebral kiss Your eyes spin my world off axis When you smile…
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Call the Bluff, Know your Tell: Presidential Elections 2012 by Asher Jay
It’s odd sometimes who chooses to run As a presidential candidate, just for fun With no compassion, logic or common sense A grasp of past, future or present tense Hoping to secure swing vote oscillations Using dated slogans, false accusations Fluffy promises & fist pumps to endorse lies Ignorance promotes 1% biased money ties Women’s rights set back to days of yore Career choice between witch and whore Romney you know not what is right You don’t have collective welfare in sight To you climate change is a fat myth FEMA was about to receive the scythe You have left the American people with no choice All your campaign statements,…
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We are all the same distance from the sky. Erik Haber The latest news in contemporary and modern art in New York, London, Paris and Berlin
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Maturity
A stationary sense…as, I suppose, I shall have, till my single body grows Inaccurate, tired; Then I shall start to feel the backward pull Take over, sickening and masterful – Some say, desired. And this must be the prime of life… I blink, As if at pain; for it is pain, to think This pantomime Of compensating act and counter-act Defeat and counterfeit, makes up, in fact My ablest time. PHILIP LARKIN 1951 The latest news in contemporary and modern art in New York, London, Paris and Berlin