Tag: ten bulls

5. Taming the bull

after the capture comes this watershed ‘though there are no fluid feelings or sylvan streams just a slither of liquefaction in red rage on hard rock where riddles run in rills between the feet of a Sphinx apparitions vex the mind that made them… Continue Reading “5. Taming the bull”

4. Catching the bull

As certainties slip from the grasp cloudland lifts its top  and cuckoos flee across contours, through half-closed lids the eyes compose deft as any painter of landscapes green wash of watercolour pencilling where craggy heights give way to forest darker furze slip slide into… Continue Reading “4. Catching the bull”

3. First sight of the bull

Sun blots the landscape soaking the faraway view to a faded wash eyes forced to a squint, slit-eyed I watch reeds and trees stand up against the glare silhouettes sooty as after bushfires a fine art drawing in red chalk and charcoal blotches of citrine light… Continue Reading “3. First sight of the bull”