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The Metal in Man

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He awoke with his eyes part of the auburn painting in this his last morning sunrise. His life meaningless without a single success, he was stranded in time between fame and blame but not for lack of hard work.  Before going to sleep tonight he spent his entire life savings on this one last stab at success but this time with nothing left in life to lose but this day he swore this time this once it would not fade away.

The artist of metallurgy stroked the blue graphite nestled in its bed of turquoise stones poised and possessed for a future at Tiffany’s in a special diamond class exhibit held once every fifty years, his art would be held inside his unbreakable hands and his dreams held in his last breath of today.

Molten beads began to dance in splattering on the broken years of cold footed concrete.  A metal meteor shower began falling to earth accepting their sacrificial fate and timing for this the most important event for any artist alive. Today is the time his time and he begins raping the bare metal down to an ingot affair. Diamond cuts of carbon shards erupt up against the textured spitted grooves he impairs with explicit divine intervention.

            His eyes become unbound as he pounds down his most desperate of metal moods.

Fame or shelved or bought matters not to this true artist for this is a self imploding art and his last chance as a man at metal to dance in harmony metal air arcing away disgusted failures and brushed away flames.  Soon his creation would rise in a race with the sunshine in a lonely backroom of desolation bringing onto the floor of Tiffany’s unheard metal art sharp and shining and shouting vulgarities of rapture, nothing less would he accept.

Mixing in the warmth of gemstones set into the hot textured steel while still sizzling from its own heat rising he unleashes a world of steel unknown to mankind beset with jewels of harder times and worn out hands of a metalized man.  An arc angel of the un-named with eyes of blue diamonds warmed up and gentled begin peering deep into set of paths left undiscovered by pursuers of the righteous.

Smelting iron embedded against chrome and turquoise stone and ruby red heart beating breathlessly the upper shelf of humanity who had crawled into the room un-noticed staid their steps in pure gaze at this  his pious creation, the angelic of Godly surpassing life itself while smiting all of life’s previous fallen failures.  The lowly wing welder rose above the clientele and his own expectation with his angelic wings flapping into the sun of harmony as it appeared to be kissing the lips of the creator.

His curled and callous hands reached backwards into the past into a lonelier time and turned off those old cold flames that had once defeated him.  Today his heart stopped bleeding and wrong now had an infinite right of pride in speaking. He seem to be gliding away in soft quiet demeanor as all past discouragements release away within him.

Thinking to him self how fifty long years was now worth every gaze that captured his work this day with jaw dropping ooh’s and awes of surrenderment and watching free souls allowed to be lose and soaring upwards in the room with wetted eyes to this his final spent effort.  Life had carved out such disappointment for him year after year that finally his spirit could no longer acquit defeat  so it lifted itself up back from death into this his final finale to hover above life’s greatest moments, that moment he had waited a lifetime for, that moment of acceptance. 

This day with accord in a life well done with no more trying to complete his dream, a dream now flying with soaring suns and gods, life like hard boiled eggs nestled down on hot island rocks was finally done. It was fleeting.

            Suddenly and without knowledge to the patrons or Tiffany’s the blue diamond eye nuggets that he had spent a life savings on which were slightly inset into the angelic winged figure caught the outside noon sun rising and shouted out through the hidden holes in the backside of the carved wavy hair and the “Piece de Resistance” lit the blue diamonds and in return lit the entire room blue to match this old mans sorrowful life.

The artist began retracting himself from the event with the coming of night into a well rested bed. The bed took him during the night to another plane never to return to the lowly grains of steel that had structured his life.  The following morning the art world was buzzing, the art community had caught word of this work sculpted by an unknown old man who had not muttered even a single word to those in attendance. The community tried to find out any information about this genius craftsman but to no avail. An anonymous phone call to Tiffany’s purchased the piece for a top museum in Europe for five hundred million dollars.  “The Angel of Light” as it came to be known, has never lost the light in it’s blue diamond eyes even at night it continues to glow.  Some believe god may have made an effort to apologize to this old soul that had obviously been misplace in life and so he inspired the man and gave grace to the blue diamond eyes so that the old man could see through them and watch the faces struck in awe as they gazed up at his art, the most beautiful thing they have ever laid their mortal eyes on.  Today the statue stands all alone just like the man, but in a well dressed well lit museum with a simple inscription.

 

The angel eyes sun lit the death of an artist life. He now resides above the golden

Angel wing array of that painted morning sky

.

“Artist Unknown”

Comments (2)

This comment was minimized by the moderator on the site

I like your style of writing, i.e. its really prose/poetry. In many places you forgo the commas that normally set off dependent clauses which allow one thought to blend into the next. The metaphors are also original and thought-provoking.<br...

I like your style of writing, i.e. its really prose/poetry. In many places you forgo the commas that normally set off dependent clauses which allow one thought to blend into the next. The metaphors are also original and thought-provoking.<br /><br />I wonder if it might be more powerful if you took some time to strain many of the prepositions from it. For instance, "so it lifted itself up back from death" would maybe be more direct and immediate as "so it lifted itself from death...." Of course, it could just be a stylistic difference and nothing more.

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Joshua Hennen
This comment was minimized by the moderator on the site

Your insight always amazes me, this was a poem originally but my wife thought it would be better as prose. So I changed it over yesterday. Yes I do agree that I need to slow the pace utilizing commas. It would be gramically correct. I don't know...

Your insight always amazes me, this was a poem originally but my wife thought it would be better as prose. So I changed it over yesterday. Yes I do agree that I need to slow the pace utilizing commas. It would be gramically correct. I don't know if you caught the new words I added like surrenderment.

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Vangoman
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