This, too, is Art

Dance in Blue Flame by Iphios

This, too, is Art©

by Iphios

I wish you were like art

Where your language is buried beneath me

Waiting for the stroke of my hand

To make shapes on empty canvas

Taking form to an understanding

A translation from you to me

To mine.

Continue reading This, too, is Art


Open Spaces #4: Womb & Freedom

[This is the last poem for the Open Spaces Series. Open Spaces are poems inspired by some of my paintings]

Womb & Freedom

To mimic the womb

We curl our bodies,

Hide in dark places

Praying for comfort,

For safety.


I hid in dark places,

Nooks and crannies,

Beneath tables

And stairs, nursing

My broken soul


Like a fetus, grasping

For warmth—for

Love that envelopes

You in darkness

I waited and



But the darkness I knew

Was cold, consuming

Filling my beaten up

Soul with promises

Of loneliness,

Rejection and a misery



To be swallowed

Or to escape


To mimic birds

We hold our hands up

In elation and freedom

Running across wide spaces

Jumping high to touch

The sky



pushing out

Of tight spaces,

Stepping into the light

I run






Into an emptiness

A silence of heart

Of mind

Of spirit


Into the arms

Of freedom

Into the solitude

And quiet

Of nothingness

Open Spaces #1: The Field

I have a few paintings of open spaces and thought I try to use them as inspiration to writing. Here’s the first of the series.

The Field

I laid myself open

Like a field of tall stalks

And yellow flowers

Surrounding you with

Beauty and a silence

That sways with the breeze

Beneath the ever wide



And like those who have

Found a field

You run into its arms,

Stomping upon its stalks

Hold it in your hands

And have your fill

Until the sun sets

The grass gets itchy

And the picture taken



The ever open field

And its wide welcoming arms

Never turning back,

Never returning.

While it stands open,

Bleeding through its

Bent up stalks

Beneath the darkening sky.