Blank pages, blank canvases
Perfect space for My greatest creation
With patient strokes, My opus is made
Slow turns of the wheel, My Venus is shaped
Greatness cannot, will not be rushed
My muse is a hard taskmistress
Helping Me take My work to new heights
Carved with cat o’nine, and Dragon’s tongues
Written in blood, sweat and tears
Sadistic Shakespeare, Dominant Descartes
A disciple of the “Daddy Discipline”
Going in new directions that others seem to shun
Following tangential thoughts through to the end
No museum will show My work – it is not for public praise
My work is for My delight, to be enjoyed until the end of My days.
10:08 p
5/11/10
