When I am in my painting, I'm not aware of what
I'm doing.
-
Jackson Pollock
Skilder van messe,
stokke en rollers
werp sy woede
senutergend uit
oor die Great American Dream,
'n hopelose
vergissing.
In November 1939
by die Guernica in die MoMa,
snap hy meteen die
waansin van Kuns:
The only people for me are the mad ones,
the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk,
mad to be saved, desirous of everything at
the same time,
the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace
thing,
but burn, burn, burn like fabulous roman
candles
exploding like spiders across the stars
and in the middle you see the blue centerlight
pop
and everybody goes 'Awww!
In November 2017
my bed action
painting
vol senu-merke van
nagmerries:
'n Argwaan
oor spinnekoppe
wat nooit sterre
of kerse
word
nie.
Beeld verplaas
toepassing
in hierdie gedig
skilderend
sonder
begin of einde.
© Joan Hambidge
