Quiet underground. Dark underground. Party above.
Let’s imagine a student in class today who said, “I am going to stab you in your head and then shit and pee on your grave”, and me saying “OK”.
What else could I say?
The kid was angry and lost it for about 2 hours. It’s difficult not to fall into the trap, feel threatened and angry with a 10-year-old. However, I don’t, never will and kept my senses clear.
This painting is what I felt, what I knew could have happened. Another time. Another place.
Everybody rides the wave of time.
Some ride fast and others, perch slow.
All make book for the end of light, for the
ride of demise where day is left, unwritten.
Peaceful playground, my imagination, this
zoo of misfits who color my dreams and hue
Focus of clarity sees through my window
and history is made, but yet be blended; my time,
the time and my reality.
We ride the train, where merciful stories puff so slowly.
I guest with an owner, we write together, we share
the ingredients, our dreams.
Puff a wave, feel the sensation of melange
and fingers making beat to time, in me.
2012 Barry Comer – Illustration 2015
heat me up and
poison my mind,
killing this infection –
taking my life,
eating my dinner down,
rawing my lips.
Come run with me;
now take me on.
Pull my choked-up,
glass wheels fast.
Help me steer –
not too neat,
Get under my skin,
do it dirty.
2010 Barry Comer – Illustration 2015