a painting

today i worked on a painting. it is big and strong. and everyone thinks it is pretty. the secret is, it is a part two to a painting i did years ago. this piece i love, but have not shown it to many. when i was looking at this piece last year i wrote a poem for my father. he will never see it. because he has asked me not to write like that anymore. i use to write like that all the time. i like writing like that. and painting like that. to me they are as beautiful as the ones that show and sell.
if you click on the picture you can zoom in to see all the details. try to read the cut outs. there is an old madonna song called bad girl. that i lstened to as i made this piece. i listened to it again as i wrote the poem.

 Bad girl

drunk by six

kissing some kind of stranger's lips

somked too many cigarettes today

i'm not happy when i act this way

Listen Father



(Papa Don’t Preach I’m In Trouble deep…)



I wasn’t at the

crack house

Crystal den

to get high

I was there to get laid

And those speedy mother fuckers

Can go all night and not cum

You willing

Dear old Dad

You willing to follow me down

To the drown

THIS is where your father took me

As he tricked me out into the world of slutdom

With each boozy secret visit he made upon my body

Until I learned too late that I had a taste

For it

His cock

After him any

Cockle doodle do

Cock hold dude will do

You willing

Daddy dear to take on my pain

Since you demanded that I live through this

Chin up stoic

I stand

In grand denial

Dressed up like a nun in your love

Never speaking of my war within

My triumphs over prostitution

Only dipping me toe into porn and not jumping all the way in

But not for the reasons you think

Because I saw the stamina of Jenna

and knew

I had to get stronger to make it in this world

Because the world is not what you said it was

I can take the grit and the grime

The lies and the crime

Where is the grandiose culture of my birth

Where is this myth of family

It does not lie within my skin

What rest there

Are fingerprints bruising the memory of

Childhood and love and tender touch

Can you follow me to where

This rough wind blows

Can you keep up

Not with the Joneses

But the true tale of me

Where I was all that time

When you were not around

I dare you to

Follow the leader

We shall play

And I’ll whisper

That I still love you

And forgive your refusal to apologize

For the chaos created

While you tried to change the world for the better

For the destruction of my mother

And the hurt inflicted upon my brother

I forgive you

For putting me on a pedestal

And then leaving me trapped up there alone

Vulnerable to those birds of prey

I forgive you even though I do not believe you will forgive me

For being ruined by him and all the others that followed.

You will never know of those who tamed my wild heart and ways

You will never know of the demons I no longer have to battle

In order to stay alive

You may never understand the price of my peace

But no matter

Dad

I won’t go to the crack house

Crystal den

This time I will not feed my sickness

But my soul

You’ll just never know difference

No different

Than you were before