URSULA BAYER
PAINTER & POET
US
I made a creature called us
first there was no fuss
only bliss
in every kiss
floating in harmony
for all eternity
in space
in a state of grace
we could still be there
but you couldn't bear
it
you had to tear
it
Love didn't stick
now the creature
is sick
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I AM
I am fertile with poetry
And pregnant with images
I'm a pictorial poet
A sorceress
A witch
A shamaness
Once upon a time
I am time
devouring
Female
I am the artist
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CROW
Under a black hill
It grows a crow
In a black cage
It is born
A bloody crow
In a blood red sky
It learns to fly
On a golden globe
It sits with its mother
On a throne
All alone
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WAITING
With
baited breasts
Waiting
For you
black widow
vagina dentata
You
who is as quick
as a rattlesnake
will not
escape
me
ARTISTS CAN'T
Artists can't afford
to fuck around
they live on holy ground
they have obligations
to create food for thought
and what is taught
to future generations
It's not about personal gain
many creatures live in vain
hoping to escape misery
Artist's can only be free
if they follow the rules
and use their tools
as it's meant to be
WORK
If i don't work
all the time
on my mind
Looking for meaning
Something to find
Threads to unwind
I'll turn blind
Dreaming
Seeming
lost and found
soundless and sound
