Time drips down and down

12-step, Addiction, Alive, Art, artist, Artist's Hands, Badass Artist, Barry Comer Artist, beat poetry, Cafe, Coffee

part-of-me

Abbreviated love this afternoon,

until light strikes clouds

and hours roar near.

I think it often while extending

moments and ticks, until my sun

who shimmers; circles along

my chest.

Happy is the word and content for

hands; that touched and stroked.

The silence after, beats loud

in song, as she whispers

words that penetrate.

Nothing more for now.

Nothing need be carved to

time and beats.

My body floats

among the waves and

time drips down

and down.

2012 Barry Comer

Look deeply…

American Illustrator, Barry Comer Artist, Cafe Sketches, cafe sketching, coffee cup, Coffee Shop, Coffee Thoughts, drawing

Steam Crave

…into my coffee, the hundred-morning count, bottom-swirled beauty.

Deep breathing exercises for 20 inhalations.

Count down. Fire. I crave your steam, all black and hot.

Crisp brown

Allen Ginsberg, Artist's Hands, Autumn, Barry Comer, Barry Comer Artist, Dr. Ph. Martin's Radiant Concentrated Watercolor, drawing, dreams, Fall Leaves, Hand Made Paper, Sculpture, Sculptured Sketch, Self Portrait, selfie, Selfies

COOL

The wind is stirring my dirt, with rain and scents in crisped and brown. You are here, time wound, now sprung. Floating delivery, you brought me here.

Ageless marmalade skies

1960s, America, American Illustrator, Art, artist, Barry Comer, Barry Comer Artist, Dr. Ph. Martin's Radiant Concentrated Watercolor, drawing, John Lennon, Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds, The Beatles, Vietnam War

birthday

Yesterday was John Lennon’s birthday. He would have been 75, which seems impossible because both he and The Beatles feel ageless. The scent of new releases all on vinyl, is imprinted not only throughout my life experiences, but tinctured in olfactory memory. The power of youth and growing older, would be impossible to paint without his lyrics, politics and passions.

Having been of age to be drafted, his efforts along with others, helped end the senseless war in Vietnam. He helped save me and gave anthems to march, to walk and to make love; not war.

I asked a server over coffee today, if Lennon was relevant to her. Sadly and unpredictably, the 20 something said no. I had heard of many people several years younger, who think he and The Beatles are as important today, if not more.

I hope this is true.

Lennon with partners, illustrated my youth and who I am today. He will always be Mr. Kite, Marmalade Skies and Revolution.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3AVWJzHvhFE

 

My heart feels danced

Art, artist, Barry Comer, Barry Comer Artist, Blondie, Cha Cha, Grand Marnier, Heart of Glass, Sketchbook Skool, Wine, Wine glasses

heart of glass

My heart feels “danced” when hands go zoom. Why not? I’m the artist and I do as I feel. At least with my artwork.

How about some fun with shapes and vessels.

Put in a little wine and Grand Marnier, and one has pours of spirit.

Hollow howl

Allen Ginsberg, America, artist, Badass Artist, Barry Comer, Barry Comer Artist, beat poetry, Hollow Howl

Howl

I’m the hollow howl, the 50 hour week, with a cavity filled too deep. Just feelings with no complaints. My haunch tickles and guess I took it.

I miss paris

American Illustrator, Art, artist, Bars, Boulevard Saint-Germain, Cafe, Cafe Sketches, cafe sketching, cafe workers, confit du canard, David Hockney, Dessert, Dinner, Dr. Ph. Martin's Radiant Concentrated Watercolor, drawing, French, Paris Cafes

paris copy

A single flower illuminates a confit du canard, with a wine glass appropriately sized. Smells and touch; many textures. I miss speaking a language whose melody is sung in alley cafes.

Parts are home in memory. Parts are waiting for new eyes and newer touch.

… but it’s butter.

Art, Barry Comer, Barry Comer Artist, Butter Croissant, Dr. Ph. Martin Watercolor, Illustration, line art, Pen and Ink, pencil drawing, Urban Sketching

butter croissant

Yes, another croissant, but it’s butter and more colorful. It was gently discussed earlier that maybe my Dr. Ph. Martin’s were not as vibrant as they could have been. So here is my second attempt.

Plus, no coffee in this sketch, for those who dislike. Hrumph.

 

Whine the wind for another tale

beat poetry, Cemetery, Flowers, Illustration, Lilly, line art, Pen and Ink, pencil drawing, Summer Heat, Urban Sketching

Todaysflowers

Trickling some laughs and rippling steam,
allow my hands to palm the curve,
and smell my sense and shake the salt.

Ears and waves her boiler-room shy,
trust the touch; the experience of age.
Smell your sense and shake it hard.

Dance toes on scratch-grass roads, feel
the boil, touch the lip – don’t leave me alone.

Touch the sense and push it through.
Tap dance girls all smell the same.
Goofied smiles, such nervous sounds –
skin-squealed up like boards of steel.

Whine the wind for another tale.
Just some love for Summer, just
pickled stuff.

2010 Barry Comer – Illustration 2015