Reid Wilkie

2012-02-14T19:09:00.001-05:00

Illuminated eyes burn through

The reflection of an encased

Prison of influence.

That of elevated sensational

Thought.

That of a collective synergy with

All perceptions born of a certain

Spirit.

That of woman.

Woman that breathes,

Woman that dreams,

Woman that becomes the Earth.

Shadowed beings hover with out-stretched

Limbs, clutching to the

Journey of an innocent thirst.

The following rendez-vous

Is obscured by layers of

Molecular essence,

Gliding through hemispheres

Divided only by command

Of thought, enhanced

Only by the breath of music,

Perceived only

Through the knowledge

Beyond touch.

Suspended under the light

Of diamond encrusted

Thought, an engraved

Impression laces reality

Unto a sonic ground

Orchestrated within a

Tortured performance.

The hour of recognition

Is surpassed only by

The denial of time,

Pulsating rhythmically

To the demands of once

Before.

2012-02-14T19:07:00.001-05:00

Tongues of Confidence.

Languages leading us to despair.

Phrases plucked from generations of thought,

Thought not yet adorned.

Experience being so sparse allows no judge

Of the futile expressions to be guillotined by ignorance.

Unheard exclamations of connected concepts

Abuse the intellect of silence.

The atmosphere is broken by continuous obsessions

Of self, leaving open only the opportunity to bask

In artificial lighting,

Darkening the universal being of indulgence,

Squandering the language gifted to us all

To elevate the perception of human intellect,

One is drowned by the continual revilement of our tongue.

Entering the banality of undiscovered participation

One resides with tranquility in a bath of apathy,

Clutching to the ideal of revolution.

One searches the revolution to find only parched remnants

Of our belief.

One can merely stand tall beneath the dermic layers of history

To withstand the wrath of our times.

2011-05-22T20:52:00.009-04:00

NO!R

FEBRUARY 2011

REID WILKIE

NOW I AM GONE

OIL ON CANVAS WITH AUDIO POETRY

40" X 30"

REID WILKIE

DO NOT FEAR

OIL ON CANVAS WITH AUDIO POETRY

30" X 40"

2011-01-18T20:22:00.003-05:00

shadow of shame

2011-01-18T20:10:00.003-05:00

i reach out

2010-09-13T19:12:00.002-04:00

NO!R

THE EMBRACE

SEPTEMBER 2010

FILTH, 2010

2010-09-13T19:10:00.001-04:00

FILTH, 2010

2010-09-13T19:08:00.002-04:00

FILTH, 2010

2010-09-13T19:05:00.001-04:00

THE EMBRACE, 2010

2010-04-27T20:54:00.000-04:00

The grey follows me

Blurs my vision and clouds my thoughts

The veil of confusion hangs before my eyes

And instead of dismissing another’s glance

Reels in the reactions of disgust as I am stood helpless behind

The transparent mask.

I stand at the mercy of the South prevailing winds as the

Illusion of billowing folds of cloth enters my minds eye and

Disrupts the meditative state of being.

I am surrounded by many, screaming, wrenching at their gut,

Burning from within and hurling abuse at my figure of torture.

Anxiety grasps me by the throat, unleashed by the offensive

Words of once loved lands, and suffocates my breath with

Pain and overgrowth.

As would a living grave hold you down to the centre of the

Earth, so would your tongue tie you down to the words you once

Promised a decade ago, and forgive you only at the utterance

Of your last sigh.

2010-03-19T20:52:00.002-04:00

2010-03-11T21:28:00.002-05:00

You have had your instincts torn from flesh.

You have had your insight shaded from truth.

You have had your trust tied in chains.

You have had your faith hung up to die.

It hurts.

It bleeds from the contaminated cells of your gut.

It multiplies, germ by germ, until the disease is rotting

Layers beneath the organ of anxiety,

Trapping the sensation of suffocation within the cavity of pain.

You feel loss.

You feel absence.

You feel a void.

You feel alone.

Exhaustion breeds upon itself, within itself,

Raping each and every inhalation of life you struggle to capture.

Sadness cradles the victim, wrapping your soul in darkness

To protect you from the symptoms of an enlightened emotion.

The violent attack on your integrity allows your pride

To growl and glare into the face of intellect

And devour the very words that are intended to heal.

You seek a cure in the muddled medicine of thought,

Yet the disease has set deep, allowing only for a deprived state

Of recuperation to be your comfort.

You cleanse.

You disinfect,

With tears of defence,

Released from the cancerous growth imbedded in your memory.

Your tears flow with nuclear power and your

Vulnerability is evaporated into a cloud of acid.

Molten asbestos runs like lava through your veins,

Threatening your fragile existence,

Drowning your hope in ash.

A single voice prevails, above the logic of reason,

Beyond the constraints of logic.

A pill of health,

A band-aid in the battlefields of hell.

A faint recording of it’s grinding texture

Rotates amidst your collective self punishment,

Resonates beyond the torture of guilt.

You listen.

You doubt.

You adore.

You succumb.

2010-03-11T21:07:00.002-05:00

I am collecting my tools around me.

I am polishing my skills once generously betrothed to me

Long ago.

I am formulating a plan

To build a statue of expression.

Layers and layers of fertile soil to determine the life

And depth of this fragile terrain.

I am drilling beneath the unturned stone to

Bring oxygen to an untouched earth,

Where the presence of a dream has haunted my soul

Since my soul began to search for itself.

I am preparing my body to take on the burden of the

Inevitable weight of discovery.

I am training my lips to give form to the words.

I am loosening my fingers to bring rhythm to the song.

I am saluting my past to pass reason on my belief.

2010-03-11T00:58:00.002-05:00

2010-03-06T19:19:00.001-05:00

2010-01-29T22:42:00.001-05:00

the fading light up yonder

beckons me to consider you,

even though my solitude reigns above

the desert winds as

they circle the crevices

and bow down to the canyon.

the first star of the night

begins to shimmer in view

of the arid horizon,

allowing others to join

by his side

in the vast suspended ocean.

the perfumes of the evening

plants, plant themselves

upon me,

flowering me with their beauty

and protecting me with their

essence. never alone

beneath the blue black sky

and millions of stars.

I fantasize phantoms from the

rocks, and befriend their

souls with my hypnotized vision.

the seven sisters tower over

me, shading me from myself.

and then,

she graces me with her presence.

her glow proceeds her with

temptation.

her body follows with fertile

form and translucent soul.

she governs.

she masters the motorways of wind.

she reigns her night kingdom

with power and glory,

inviting her subjects to fall silent

in her grace.

she is my queen

and always has been.

I may shine, as I rule my own sun,

but she marks my word

and enlightens my darkest hour.

2009-11-27T23:31:00.000-05:00

There is no moment

As radiant as that which

Carries one beyond the light

Of consideration.

There can be no thought

Beyond that of wanting the present

To be real,

True

Reflective

And kind.

There is a glance,

A shimmer of gentle quiet

Which prevails

Which haunts

That which is held secret

Within the concentrated energy

Of spirit felt.

Through each effervescent breath

Expressed unwillingly

With the honour of truth,

One sees beyond the mist

And enters the field of fear

With confidence.

It could be that you feel as one

It could be that you dread the fear

Of pleasure sought within

Your soul.

It could be that one on one

As you seek beyond the glass

For salvation of the self

That the reflection of the mirror affront

Carries you into a world of your creation.

As you draw the curtains

Give courage to the rhythm of sound,

Allow light to enter your vision,

Open words to beautify your lips

And depart,

With head held high,

With eyes as clear as ice,

With love by your side.

2009-09-16T21:43:00.000-04:00

There is a world of abuse

That continues to threaten

The common self.

There is a haunting presence

That shadows the perception of light.

There is a pressure that lures

Beyond the candle lit flame,

With a double faced head

Gleaming with impertinence,

Grinning with menace.

A twitch in the movement

Of her head, angled towards

The sound of familiar

Drone around, illustrates the discomfort

Of the infused atmosphere.

Familiar sounds, both lyrical

And musical, combined with converse,

Both banal and entertaining.

The beat rolls,

Aggressively motivating the speed of change.

A pause for air, from beneath

The surface of submission,

Creates a new film of light

On the participating fools.

Taste, devour, invade, intrude, continually

Reassure of the insecurities felt,

The abuse once held dear,

The isolation endured amongst

The presence of others.

Await, the end,

There is none.

There is only observation

Observation of oneself.

2009-09-16T21:19:00.000-04:00

2009-09-16T20:45:00.000-04:00

Does this feel any better?

Does this make you smile?

Does this hit deep and excite?

Does this remove the mist of

Indifference?

Does this re-shape your desire?

Does this give shape to your

Phantoms of restraint?

Does this belong to you as it should?

Does it give you a reason to escape?

Does it free you from your ball and chain?

Does it talk to you in your sleep?

And awake you from your dreams?

Is it real and ugly?

Is it dark and true?

Is it you?

2009-09-16T20:35:00.000-04:00

Transition

From frustration to comprehension.

Fusion

Of individualism and suffocation,

With wisdom and clarity.

Or that is what they said!

Instead

A string of tension, drawn between

Two understandings of being,

Two perceptions of essence,

Two visions of life.

A pool of murkiness to cloud anyone’s

Self confidence amongst the shadows of power.

Instead

A ring master, orchestrating the fatal

Brutal dog fight to the kill.

The fear

Of finding yet another cadaver wrapped

Clinically in a polythene body bag

Floating down the Los Angeles river.

Graceless, with it’s heart fed to the dogs

And it’s soul thrown to the homeless.

To offer one’s skin, is to sacrifice one’s flesh.

To pledge one’s name to the cause, is to

Stand up and fight until the last torch dies.

I see no revenge, I see truth.

Truth in their eyes as they lie through their teeth.

Blood on their hands as they reign their kingdom of fear.

2009-08-05T15:19:00.000-04:00

I have her bottled in my senses.

I feel the grain of her smell upon my skin.

Each thought burns with the essence of five

Enriched moments beyond,

Beyond the moment of Recall,

Recalling the moment of Seduction.

With each breath I devour the memory,

Tasting the freedom of her charm.

Yesterday’s soap,

Today’s embrace,

Tomorrow’s Vision of Harmony.

Each moment deepens in time with my breath,

Each pore releases the power of Seduction. For me

To fall at her feet in adoration,

For her tainted skin,

For her stained aroma,

In the wake of her scent,

Through the trail of her perfume.

I sense her pulsating veins

Of wisdom and truth,

Of honour and quest,

Of why and how

We never met.

The Full Circle

2009-08-05T15:00:00.000-04:00

The Full Circle

Unites

Through eternity

Leaving one limb exposed to the sun

Burned by it’s rays of reason

Dried by it’s words of wisdom.

There is no passion that can

Cure the thoughts of disdain

Felt and endured

Til my glance is no longer lifted

In curious envy

By the visible

Life of others.

I feel rhythm,

I feel peace,

I feel voice

Of experience

Roll it’s power over my senses

And seduce me again

With belief.

Of me.

Of my peace.

Of my solitude.

2009-08-05T14:38:00.000-04:00

As government begins to auction

We sell our soul for a third of it’s true value.

The 28 billion will only half cover the debts

We have incurred over years of human existence.

To own treasuries makes no sense

When the most precious asset we have is our belief

In the self

In the Universe

In the balance of the two.

Earnings that continue to feed the mouths

Of greed

Of religion

Of war

Will only draw us closer to the worst poverty of all.

The poverty of thought

The poverty of opportunity

The poverty of creation.

The population of underdeveloped man

Has no relation to the place of settlement,

But all to do with the state of maturity

Of mind

Of body

Of soul.

In this time of instability

Let us not feed on stocks and shares

Let us not feed on dollars and dow

Let us not feed on the decline of trade,

But instead

Learn

Without shame

From the dept we owe

To ourselves.

Awareness

Consciousness

Intelligence

Through creativity

Must reign,

As king

And his court

As Queen

And her chambers,

To govern

Man

Through

This volatile land

Laced in oil

We call his soul.

2009-08-03T22:20:00.000-04:00

2009-07-31T11:09:00.000-04:00

2009-07-31T10:37:00.000-04:00

This arid state of maturity

This desert drought of thought

This poisoned air of faith

This enveloping smog of freedom

This suffocating rain of vision

This violent storm of peace

This turbulent flight of opportunity

This flooded land of creativity

This vital sea of fear

This fatal avalanche of courage

This overcast sky of clarity

This darkened cave of love

This rocky path of good

This motorway of hell

This carnivore of pleasure

This single cell of honour

This written word of truth

This proud ignorance of life…

This contradiction of self…

Who said it was easy?

We are no longer prisoners

2009-07-31T10:32:00.000-04:00

We are no longer prisoners

Of routine

Of foresight

Of expectations.

We are no longer tortured

By the wealth

Mistook for comfort

Disguised as respect.

We are no longer angry

At the forced wind of change

That haunted our only view

And captured our single dream.

We are no longer weakened

By thoughts of injustice

By regrets of time

By wasted talent.

We are no longer fooled

By other’s demands

By other’s guilt.

The guilt is not ours

And never will be…

Alive

2009-07-29T22:06:00.000-04:00

Inextricable connections

Falling down between the rain

Drowning beneath the steps of treason

Floating above the lies of fate.

There is a cloud, heavy as the tropical storm

That hovers above those who are weighted

By their own misfortune

By their own misguidance.

In return their soul is paid for

By others

By themselves

By those who will only see

The rage of the times

Amidst the chaos of yesterday

Within the calm of tomorrow.

Inevitable parallels

Streaming beyond the rays

Of tomorrows sunshine

Reflecting the beams

Of yesterdays hazy vision.

There is light, from within

The floorboards of foundation,

Exposing the nails which bond or decay

The relation between the supporting beams.

Those who believe in the shining

Of light through life,

Lived life

Will live

In life

With life,

Alive