Another rerun. The poet is on strike because the novelist has monopolized keyboard. Do you like it?

Question

*****

Colors on my palette run together,
The canvas waits for me to draw a line,
With problems in pigment I can’t measure,

Layering the base, it seems forever,
The white on white on white with no design,
Colors on my palette run together,

Paint a bird, but do not start with feathers,
The flight is something harder to define,
With problems in pigment I can’t measure,

I need a masterpiece I can treasure,
A benefactor’s impatient deadline,
Colors on my palette run together,

As if the easel and I were tethered,
I do not have the courage to resign,
With problems in pigment I can’t measure,

As shadows fall, I cannot tell whether,
The images I see are even mine,
Colors on my palette run together,
With problems in pigment I can’t measure.

*****

Progress Report: 12,000 words so far. Should finish Chapter III tomorrow. First Editor wants more.

Answer 1

So is this written by your poet self or your novelist self? haha! I particularly like the last two lines: "Colors on my palette run together/ With problems in pigment I can't measure"
Well done! Your progress report indicates that our (me, Ann and the rest) constant nagging here worth something. Or should we nag you more? ;-)

Answer 2

12.000? You're zipping along. Love the poem. Good to see the old forms still at work, even in reruns. Superb Villanelle! Do you remember mine? I'm about to start reruns, just to get over the immense amount of puppy love and gothic schlock. Thought of a contest. "Take a piece of tripe and turn it into Haggis or Pepper Pot.", i.e. Cute furry little mouse, Did I disturb your little house? I'm so sorry you're upset. You shouldn't get so emo yet. ur sech a nice (can't finish it for the wretching and puking!!!), becomes, "Wee, sleeket, cowran, tim'rous beastie,
O, what panic's in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty,
Wi' bickering brattle!
I wad be laith to rin an' chase thee,
Wi' murd'ring pattle!"
I've gone through more than artist's block, I've got 200 lbs. of clay in a bucket in the attic, and boxes of acrylics and oils I'm afraid to look through to see if one even bends. Wouldn't even know where to look for my charcoals and felt.

Answer 3

He who hesitates is lost.

I have two 3ft by 2ft canvases.
On stretchers
I can not commit brush to canvas.
I lack inspiration.
Is this the white fields of desolation.
The longest journey starts with the first step.
I have the paint,I have the ablity.
But hesitate?

Answer 4

good job