The melted wax, a masterpiece

of unusual art, the dripping,

leavings of the light, pinned

to the table, the candle

alludes to a prelude, the breeze,

made sensual, before whipping

it out of sight, the wind,

unstable; more than one can handle.



Fantastic Realism

Picture by Andre Martin de Barros

Poem prompt from Polly,


Andre Martin de Barros

Fantastic Realism


The glance of the lance,

drawing the eye to the lie

as it draws blood

by chance, a flood of art,

infested by those contested,

yet able

to play

at my empty table.

Unstable, the knight errant,

A deterrent

for would be kings,

mere inklings,

sheer inklings,

dear inklings.