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Yvonne Rautenbach

(Aquarian - I am over 50 / UK)

Broken Art


Beloved tools unstirred
They are strangers
Brushes, pencils, pens
Erased from my picture
Daily I glance at them and mutter
'When I have time - another year
Perhaps another life.'
Where did time go?
Drawn away with my breaths?
My heart rigid in a pencil box
My soul embalmed in oils
My body dried like tempura
Smiling weakly like a Madonna
without a Child.

Submitted: Sunday, February 11, 2007
Edited: Wednesday, January 12, 2011

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Comments about this poem (Broken Art by Yvonne Rautenbach )

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  • Matt Johnston (9/20/2008 1:03:00 PM)

    Definitely going in my favorites, and I keep out the riffraff. There are cleaver lines here, the best I’ve read today and I’ve read a lot today. The ending is memorable. (Report) Reply

  • , aryaindia (9/17/2008 5:07:00 AM)

    I cherish the beautiful sentiments you express so well in your poem. wishes with best intentions, arya (Report) Reply

  • Lee Sharon (8/3/2008 4:12:00 AM)

    art is never a stranger to me it is life to me, art is never broken it is alway beauty even if it come ut nothing, (Report) Reply

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