Judi K. Beach

Art Lessons

1.
     I don’t want to impose on your work
 a certain shade of blue nor
 a bloated stroke among thin threads.
     I won’t insist on a particular texture
  etched in zinc
 nor any singular viscosity of ink.

2.
     I want you to forget the floor
 that holds you up, and walls
 that blind you to the horizon.
     I want you to forget the ceiling
 that is not the sky.

3.
     Are you painting questions or answers?
     Are you sculpting nouns or verbs?

4.
     Let the disturbing curve of shadow
 influence you.
     Welcome the accidental list
 of a wheel-thrown vessel.
     Accept discomfort at the edge of purple
 bleeding into orange.
     Salvage some disorder.
 

5.
     Be the first bird to fly south.
     Be the fish that swims toward its birth.
     Be the insect that refuses
 to relinquish its deadly love of light.
     Be the last to leave a burning house
  so only you know the color and shape
 of fire eating the deep beams.



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