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"You never chose to be the one
but it's because you were perfect
Though now you bow your head
a wet carpet and steam
waiting
and me with the knife
which I as well did not choose
but you see...I am the one as well
Life is in the blood they say
and into the earth
to slumber and be reborn
perhaps to cleanse
even these shaking hands
I wish a promise to be quick
but I have never done this before
may I never again
but a sacrifice never takes itself...
So close your eyes
oh innocent one
more than just the rain now falls
mine will come soon enough"
-k rolly
"It's twelve but not twelve
the breath between
speak and hear
pin and blood
reach and touch
God and answer
skin memory of rough sand on dirty feet
yet now in air
still to drown
widening of blue and horizon
spinning down
wait
less
time
i hold your breath
a poem boils below the skin
and you...
exhale
twelve
touch
poem
drown"
-kevin rolly
"Swept she said
Like a wind he asked?
No like mother's brooms
like leaves like
an empty room
He asked nothing more
but shut the window
children's laughter turning to ghosts
and sometime around dusk
winter came"
small little oilgraph on a small little canvas but best seen against the dark
"and crumble to little ecstasies
sleep and drift you
with autumn fingers
reach for a glass
touch and ocean
and i
fall apart to spring"
-K. Rolly
They had followed me the entire way from Montmarte
along the river
over the Passerelle Solferino
and bared their teeth in
the tearing lightning
every voice was ancient
and I, younger than the gaslamps
refused to go home
not until I saw the light
not until I stood in the hush
of stone and the voices gave up their rage
like the rain drunk into the stone
it was the last light in Paris that night
and somewhere out of sight
a door shut another opened
i could taste the wet air of history
something silent brushing close
a warning a portend
but i've learned not to listen
oilgraph on canvas 8x6
new work
silver emulsion oilgraph on wooden panel
from the series In the Time of the Judges
They were never without their guns. Ever.
Until this moment. Reading glasses are scarce in Africa
and for a brief time (the only time in my recollection)
they laid down their arms
oilgraph on canvas
Hoima, Uganda
new work
"your hair swam the pools of the air and somewhere next door the woman with the red hat fills her tea cup to overflowing and though she doesn't know why lets it spill sienna across the table cloth"
-kevin rolly
"though i pay little attention to these things
written on charts what i read is your skin
that took its marks before me
and your hair that never waves farewell but always hello hello i made it how are you?
Your girl's slip like the lip of a valley of wind
carrying with it the scent of things i cannot see...
sense memory of the sea and a perfumed jewel box
given to you by your mother the day you were born.
A forest exhales through fragile painted lips
and the seeds of a faithful sewer settle upon my tongue"
-kevin rolly
"Winter's come
a blanket of mercy
to be thrown over us
and all the wrongs we
suffered upon each other
I know we are seen and
everything is seen
a requiem candle set
at the foot of my bed
sputters through the night
through the winds of this season
that I pray may
finally silence this longing
that in its own season
has rendered these fields
into ash
so let the silence come
shut the blinds for the long nights ahead
turn the lights off
the music down
and empty this heart finally
like a tea cup grown cold
You who see....
may I forget her name by spring..."
- kevin rolly
"but there have been nights
with the endings of fingers and i
smell the fire you lit across the tracks
across the vows
and though you've long gone
into a country whose hills
i cannot see
in my mind's eye
I can still see the beckoning glance
lit by a match strike...
hear the sound of you in the mountain shower
as I wrote the secret note
and there on a glass between us
crescent scimitar kiss of breath
for my bordertown heart
as the train of warning screamed east
and the land swallowed you like rain"
silver emulsion oilgraph 7x5
Lucca - Italy
Though I never knew your name
nor had the time it seemed
to give you voice
you cried to me
in your little silence
And it’s not your fault
my little one
that you nested to a place
that could not hold you
or for long
Somewhere in the dark our compasses just went wrong
Like Mama you just wanted a home
as quickly as you could
and we found places too small to fit
At night I heard you dream
or so it seemed
with rattle and bell
of every birthday you’ll never have
In the searing dawn they took you then
Doctors and knives
tubes and blood
and I am so sorry, Miss
They drew you away
and me too it seemed
and left this valley
upon my womb
where no river will ever run again
-k.rolly
There are roofs that only certain rain chooses
and a certain smoke that seeks out the fire
I can only watch your language
but I'll never understand it
-K. rolly
"…perhaps this journey may all make sense.
I can't explain
why so much of this world fell upon us
despite all hopes or the things we did to try
for just a moment in time
to bring something that mattered to life.
Know that in the journeys of the theatre of us which held a rare hope
that we did nothing wrong
But a wheel inside me was set in motion
that will not stop for all the rivers that have come between us
or the countries we tried to cross
which carried no map other than
the longing to get through
and which stretched on and on without mercy into
a night that hasn't ceased.
To finally find a place to stop
and to find a peace
we have so often wanted.
But this land doesn't end and
every fire that burns through another heart
to leave ashes still holds some sort of promise however quiet.
But peace
is not the same as happiness
and the river is still wide.
You
will only happen once
(for me) and never again and now
are the days that if anything of value matters in this world at all
I must hold on to the song of the singer I cannot see.
For in the melody that cuts me in half are the words 'You love, because I loved you first.'
If you could see
What I see
In you…
So, until I wake…know I tried
And gave everything
I gave everything I could..."-k.rolly
"When the trumpeters have went silent
when the banners and heralds have all gone home
and the blood soldiers who once tore the sky
with defiant cries
yield the field
to the wind
and a vow
now only kept by you
there may be a victory
someday for
someone
by the years
offered up here
but not for you...
and not today
go home soldier
go home..."
silver emulsion oilgraph on wood panel 2006
20x16
silver emulsion oilgraph on wood panel
48x24
newest work
"hearts carry no shields...
and the field
won't look like one of battle
it never does"
silver emulsion oilgraph on canvas
14x11
"Where have you gone to?
Doctors and the Powers that be
had other plans for you.
I took you into the son
and we painted your dreams
on fresh walls
murals of hope
and paint looks so lovely
when it's wet.
This rain was a surprise...
I know we talked about
the day it could come.
I just didn't think it would
be today.
I'm sorry, little one...
The river is the same
but it's always new
The river
is the same
but it's
always new..."
Because I can't tell you
Because you
perhaps
already know
You look happy now
I just want you
to stay that way
just awhile longer
This time
it will be different...
"...would have left this behind
I wouldn't be by this river
or waiting for this long off spring
By my own hand I would have by night
put this upon an alter to burn
or left
to float the red current of longing
to the sea
But not for I to choose is it?
Not after all this time and
I know Your voice too well to turn
or away look to another
So at this bank
I ask once more
bring this spring
you so long ago
painted beneath my winter..."
silver emulsion oilgraph on canvas
created in ritual performance July 2004
54x36
"Take this
this gambit
and show me
something good can win
These days they turn
they turn...
but the messengers are all silent today
and the only sounds are the waves
so i take this little bucket of mine
and prepare to empty the sea
Today
there are no winners"
-2004-
Christ looks upon himself as a child
Created in performance Saturday March 11 at the Eyekons Gallery - Grand Rapids
silver emulsion oilgraph on wood panel (30x24)
-private collection-
oilgraph 7x5
