It happens a lot.
I look up to see
a soldier
with the butt of his rifle
move Dad forward.
“Why, Dad?”
“They don’t know where
we belong.” He says.
via WordPress for Phone app.
It happens a lot.
I look up to see
a soldier
with the butt of his rifle
move Dad forward.
“Why, Dad?”
“They don’t know where
we belong.” He says.
via WordPress for Phone app.
At Eleven years old
opened Dads teenage sketchbooks
Cows sat down in pencil
His Dads backyard full of tools
preliminary pencil sketches
Triumph motorcycles,
part oil coloured portraits
his Dad, his sister hangs
out washing in 1950s skirt.
sexually awakened by
his female nudes,
drapery hides modesty
extremely detailed Clwydian hills, mountains, landscapes,
rotting stump colours ablaze yellows, ochres, greens
I wanted to draw, sketch,
inspired.