The Poet and the Painter

Said the poet to the painter
Your words i cannot see
Said the painter to the poet
Well then you've written me
Said the poet i was just writing on the sand as everybody knows
When your writing on the sand you don't wear any clothes
If the painter read it naked only knows
But writing on the sands where everybody goes
Said the sand to the water what sort of men are they
Hidden in the disguise of day
Said the poet to the water why did you talk to the sand
When i was teaching the painter to write without a hand
God came up and said
"What the hell is all this fuss
I've been down with the devil and he said you must
Give me the poet or the painter
And he'll give you lust"

Everything that existed frooze
The painter cracked his canvas and the sea began to rage
The poet kicked the sand and the sand ripped his page
Everything was closing in and then the devil appeared in clothes
"I have come to give you lust"
and everything frooze

The painter drew his breath and the poet nothing moved
Sand looked at lust
But lust had nobody fooled

Water threw himself on the devil and the devil began to steam
Sand threw himself in the devil's eyes
And the painter kicked his knee
The poet whispered in the devil's ear
Listen to you what i tell
Take your lust out of here
And
Go!
To!
Hell!


Swansea beech Wales May 2010