+ Words - The paintings and poetry of American artist Jeremy Silas.

Jeremy Silas

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Canvas Me Kiss

I have heard music
I have seen poems in mist's so mystic
I remember the heartache
I remember the joy
I will find my manifested stones by the shores of my art
I will reimagine the thrones carrying me there
The subtle winds and arcs of peaceful light
I have smelled flowers and the very air before a rainfall,
I have dreamt of colors
I will embrace the rays of somber sobriety and zenith's of propriety
I will become humble again and fragile as I bow to welcome another canvas dance with brushes of my chance
This canvas me kiss, this wishing I fish, I fish
I have smelled rainfalls and flowers after the very air was reborn.


Urban Prairie Hymn No. 1

I am a priveleged son of this Urban Prairie
a beaten song I stitch and carry,
to remember long the mist I marry.
Give me a tune from the sky
and the rune I choose from the random rains I chase
through the random rains I have no pains to ponder
just hungry stains of squander
I will sit here on this mountain of memory calling out to you,
I will sing to the song that has given me my Earth,
now only blessings to give Birth.


I Dreamt an Archer Stood Singing

I dreamt an archer stood singing
for the earth and his arrows born bringing
his focus toward rainbows heard ringing
his new promise of music and meaning

Yet on stages made round
his freedom was found
beside winds
whirling bright where he's leaning
and with patience aglow
his reflection will show
a new grace
for the past he is cleaning


O Symmetry of Light

O Symmetry of
light come
comfort me
tonight so that I
may honor sure
your tender folds
of white they curl
round my eyes and
swirl through the
lies of modern
man's elusion
smiling with
insight

Just walk
with me an hour
and dance into the
shower of the
falling water's
power O symmetry
of light indulge
me in your
flight and know I
long for wings to
give birth to
feathers bold
enough to sing as
they whirl through
the sheer
molecules you
bring and know I
long for trees
to embrace your
hues dividing me
and healing who I
am


Becoming Clean

Becoming clean
remembered scene
I am alone in this
rock band until the
crow picks up my
strings until I hear
a wave that sings
I am crashing
reborn and unto
you

And you being land
are my friend on
the sand O show
me where to stand
offer art and take
my hand for I am
dreary and leary
of man's lust I am
hungry for clouds

I am thirsty for
trust show me
where to pray
again to reclaim
my heart and lay
again where safe
fields of green
remember true the
stars


The Corridors of My Yearning

I have wandered through the
corridors of my yearning
to long to feel the embers of
her burning
Old stars the wish in paintings
now returning
I will sing
for my food
carry clouds
to cleanse the crude and
foster proud a dreaming mood
as I wander through the wonder
kissing rainbows drawing
thunder
where a sunbeam sets my heart aglow
there is time there is
time there where
we know
our
emotions
in meditation
and our motions of
celebration
let us
radiate our hearts


On Evening December

I asked my
brother to smell
the crimson dust
the twilight's mist
and rust these
rains of phrase
coerce my path to
lust I throw my
obsiddion thunder
wailing I
will still hold the
canvas and the
scroll the
mountain and its
soul I will walk
another day on
paths of melodic
color a familiar
cloud to part the
beaming
I will pray to see
the dreaming the
picture and its
seeming , so see
thy orbit grace thy
wonderous
moving place until
we are covered in
sun and resting
on evening December


Utitled Winter Artwork Poem

We have been
blessed by
branches
invisible, the
sun's symmetry and
hues a miracle_,
we have painted
our faith and pray
as the winter
warms our art we
say ...
Thank you to
those that see
and seek our gifts
these extensions
of our
emancipation.


Excerpt from "Lost Souls in the Fish Bowl":
What Makes A Man
by Jeremy Silas

What makes a man doubt himself
stare at his own lone reflection
walk endless miles
circle back
then repeat it for generations to come
Why, we always ask
what is in our grasp
Mr this and that
lables follow fables
modern man jurrasic still
yes, a listless bitter few complain
New boundaries broken
heaven helpless waiting
My Mother carries pain
My baby brother reminds me constantly
of how and who to be
We are mallable still
thought I was majestic
hope low
love low
as low as a pasty hangover
low like a purple shower
stagnating summer sun
sweat dips down
this cardboard dingy town
where I am left just hangin around
dreamin of leavin
of makin it
of starving staggering slowly to the top
just when you think you're up
on an answer in your life
you're not
you are spun
Deja Vu
you are spent
Deja Vu
black burnt backbeats droning
I'm cotton
I'm wool
I'm comfort able
with my writing table attic scene
pondering possibilities for tomorrow
writing in my writing space
unshaven sculpted face
masks and labels identify with nothing
realize you are nothing
realize you are everything
skeletons still holding
souls are hybernating
dreaming of play
flying fashionably
filming frequently
wells wishing
wanting some big answer
find me a fragile
futile
piece of the here and now
fat can
crazy unshaven man
saturn falls
shooting stars
so many seconds
time winks and shattered are we all
doomed music score
dense candy store without selection
sent to the corner once more
once penniless
once
but no more
no more men
just throw me in
and please lend
a vision
to what makes a man.