Michael Burns Pen and ink washes, red conte on 75 lb rag paper 11 X 14 inches

Michael Burns
Pen and ink washes, red conté on 75 lb rag paper
11 X 14 inches


I wondered, for so long what chained me down.
The better part of me searched, and repeatedly searches….
I ask myself; was it anger, and rage because I was born in such a lowly place….
And the beast gave birth to a child.
And a free soul stood up.
The only answer that seemed to resonate with any truth at all….
is, that I hate myself for some sin I have committed.
I coveted something that was unique….something that was not mine to have,
…. very special.
Something that was only one.
Something I stole, I think ?
And it seems, I must pay for it.

And I think about that thing and wonder what it is.
I forced myself to forget, a very long time ago.
And now I can’t remember….what I was.
This thing that I purposely try to remember — try to forget.
Because it brings….sadness.

And sits deep inside and will not be quiet.
But stirs in me in other ways
And not in the way that you think.

I smothered it…that thing, I loved it with all my passion,
I possessed it.
And placed inside myself, and said only I can look.
Only I can hold it.
Only I am….pure enough
It is too precious, and fragile for a world.
I must protect and hold it, and never allow it to be corrupted.
And in that arrogance I was plunged into this place.


Michael Burns — Acrylic, oil on canvas, June/2015

And will not let it go, ever.
I defy him, until the end.
He is arrogant, more than me.
Who is he to say he is the only.

I have looked at the world and thought; do those that imprison me, scare me?
I am the son of the Morning star, and they hate me for it.
I am forever their pariah.
But I have always been a sailor, you see….
and sailors are not afraid.
Sailing the heavens, explorer of all the worlds.

And I have died too, in all the many ways that could be imagined.
And have no fear of it….it will happen again, and again.
And for an eternity again.
‘And death shall have no dominion’.

I fell into a sun once.
And had all that hinders me burnt away.
And be reduced to only the best of what one could be,
I thought its done, it is finished, it is finally over….I am free of it.
But the parasites come near again,
and that which is shining becomes a patina, that is what I am now.
I am…
an Artist.

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