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Dave Greenさんのイラストまとめ


Poetry, paint, odd shards of skewed wisdom, an irksome smugness in leaving England, tendency to slip into Lycra, keeping my common voice out of the discourse.
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Sick of it
But stoic still
We bite the bit
And get our fill
Of heights sunlit
Their golden hill
We never fit
Too lame or ill
Without the wit
Or grist for mill
We crunch on grit
Await the kill
They glance and spit
Always one-nil
The triumph of
Their brazen will

Morn

1 3

Acrylic and oil
Fight, repel ‘til peonies
Spring into life

Good morning





0 4

Some of us are older
Some try not to be
I’m no sensitive type A
Some are unlike me

Some respond to adverts
Some want number 1
I’m waiting for a main item
When the selling’s done

Sometimes I despair
Vin Diesel’s on again
Some will watch anything
If not why but when

M

0 4

A sly nerve like a live
Filament stabbed
My cheek and rose
As rotten sap
To sinus caves

My head a bruised apple
Wrinkled pepper left out
Folded in
Awaiting the severing cut
Noose relief

The placebo fools
I burn past lives
Turning pain
To electrodes in my brain

Morn

0 3

My door
Is not a jar

My bottle
I lost. Are

You with me?
Counterpoint:

I see
My gait

Can’t swing
My tern

Misleading
My pane

Hurts clearly
So saw

Sliced nearly
One day

I’ll raise the bar
And leave

The weigh in
Just a tad

Ajar

Morn

1 2

No-one comes to the lane end
But the old shepherd bent hard
To find his fattened flock

On the high cliffs he’ll find them
Or by the blackened skerries
Sheltered by lewisian rock

Evening

2 10