When I am in my painting, I'm not aware of what I'm doing.
- Jackson Pollock
Skilder van messe, stokke en rollers
werp sy woede senutergend uit
oor die Great American Dream,
'n hopelose vergissing.
In November 1939
by die Guernica in die MoMa,
snap hy meteen die waansin van Kuns:
The only people for me are the mad ones,
the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk,
mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time,
the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing,
but burn, burn, burn like fabulous roman candles
exploding like spiders across the stars
and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop
and everybody goes 'Awww!
In November 2017
my bed action painting
vol senu-merke van nagmerries:
'n Argwaan
oor spinnekoppe
wat nooit sterre
of kerse
word
nie.
Beeld verplaas toepassing
in hierdie gedig skilderend
sonder
begin of einde.
© Joan Hambidge