Oil and Acrylics

 

Mossed giant rocks tied together by taught, tussled creaking rope

Separated by deep dangerous meters.

Pressing the sea floor, no intent for journey’s West

The white rips and roars,

Underneath, aurora raw.

Aluminium panic sips, dips and spits

Tectonic plates inch the floor.

 

Fuel wind flutes and pecks the waves,

Like skimming stones that hit your face

Breathed in cliffs shout down ‘you fucking clown!’

‘The taxman rang’, the anchors clang

Shames tempest with metallic fangs

Have you been here?

 

My soul I paint…and what, is soul

Jonny Woolnough
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