a chameleon

a chameleon, of the highest order,
a most complicated poetic sort,
is what he is, and will remain,
a practitioner of the romance languages,
because the lizard is someone
who sees with his mind,
someone who is concerned less
with preserving the world
than recording a feeling,
he can make a metaphor into a matrix of lines,
in an instant, turn an idea into an image

in the chameleon's universe,
words and idioms, truisms,
rubbish, beats, old memories,
the accident’s of a far off world,
artists conventions,
wavy lines and drips,
like a Pollock painting,
ideas, thoughts and feelings,
all overlap in strange directions

excessive emphasis on intellectual matters, especially,
with a lack of proper consideration for emotions,
the concept of intellectualism,
though it seems everywhere in his work,
is the thing he is suspicious of,
since it implies an element of effort

the lizard’s work is direct, straight forward,
his positions pour out of him naturally,
without the intrusion of wit,
the lamp that metamorphoses into a tornado,
like the musician, with a delicate resonance,
an electrifying white light spills, an eminence appears

these are the works of an artist
for whom feelings and creating
are woven together into one strange,
mesmerizing labyrinth of brilliant
lustrous, radiant, stirring,
freely wandering potent,
spontaneous, luminous light

in bazaar phenomenon,
resides the most reasonable of all