"Station 19, India 1944" Pencil, Charcoal, Acrylics on Illustration Board, 2011 Terrence L Cope

Grey mist of trees that line the banks

A wind that whips the oceans ‘round

Inside the currents, Indigos and half-light,

The bodies, silhouetted marionettes

Glide just below the ocean’s edge

Gentle hands that clutch the tender threads

hollowed eyes peer eternal, buried in their strife

And your children dine on table scraps, hand me downs

The gift of those who took it all

When you were trying to prove yourself

When it was you who sacrificed …. at the building of the wall.

"Happy Jacks Go Buggy" 24x36 Pencil on Gessoed Multimedia Board by TL Cope

I sit in a room

no window in sight

and Stare at this puzzle

that's nailed to the wall

All the pieces are black

In the dark there's no light

I.LL SIT ALL ALONE

and keep it together

YET the Pieces they fall

and WITH aLL my might

I can't keep it whole

I can't make it right

P-51B Red Wrecker III, Charcoal and Chalk 11x17 by Terrence L Cope

When I became a man

I put aside those things   of children

As I began to gray

I sought to be that child again.

i 

am a monster

who dreamed

he woke

and found himself a man

and it scared me ......



I’m puzzled at chimes Of nursery rhymes
 and children’s books.
That silent cry, child-like whimpers,
Inaudible tremblings of crooks
Lost in the woods,
A break of the twig that lay in our way,
That shuffle of leaves in a shadow's cast
Short is this path ‘neath their boney branches,
nothing more and nothing less
Still the slightest of breeze, the softest of rain,
the short hand of time erasing our passing
We listen to only the notes that we choose
Acting surprised at the way that you answered
When did you decided to leave the woods?Leaving your toys, the bear and the owl
Abandoning things once deemed important,
To embrace the fears of graying years.
Forgetting to laugh,  
Trying to be strong as your heart just grew tired,
Your hands too frail to hold on to the rails,
And the future, a joke,
A collecton of mirrors that show what’s behind you
Life capsulated inside the honey jar,
 A few lines remembered, jotted down,
A few lines from the book of a child 
To capture your life undefined
Lost in a struggle,
Confused,

Words and pieces in the puzzle of “you”
Now nothing remains of those days in the sun

Still ....

..... you finally got back
to that house at Pooh corner by one.



"Seaplane a study of the Rufe," 20x30 Oil on resinfibered multimedia. 2011 Terrence L Cope

Morning Sketch in Carcoal, a study. July 5th, 2011 by Terrence L Cope, click for larger image

breathe deep, the air holds many things,

and within its blue comes those with wings.

circle the osprey, the glide of a gull, 

my mind oft'n wanders with their lofty call.

To touch the land,

To feel the sky
surreal in its frameing,

this melding of seasons,
 inside abstractions,

inscribed on my soul

with the place of no naming

in a time with no passing

the sketch below is charcoaled in ....

Inside a window, embers glow

A heart beats to the rhythm tears

Trapped and caged a lioness dies

From voices that she failed to hear

Back and forth she'll pace the floor

Awaits that moment etched in fate

To dread this silent cage she'll roar

Drowning out that one mistake

A key that locked the open doors

That led to paths her life will take.

Oh! Could there be something more?

Could she'd 've been someone great?

Look at her and listen close,

To eyes who stare through graying curls

And you will see how free she danced

When she was but a little girl.

Morning Sketch "P-40E New Zealand Airforce" 18x24 blocked in charcoal on stonehenge paper, click for larger image

A line

Laid with intention

Charcoaled in

Relationships

Shadow and white

A trick of the light

A slight of hand

We are not artists

We are magicians

and Liars ....

Morning sketch 11x14  06232011 Carcoal on Paper by Terrence L Cope

The moon cast shadows

Streetlights glow softly

Boats on the river

Are silhouettes mostly

Sounds of the City

Float off in the Distance

Music familiar

the echoes of Rampart

And stars intermingle

With the lights of the buildings

And that faint little twinkle

In the soul of your eyes.

This mornings sketch 06/21/2011 11x14 charcoal on paper by Terrence L Cope

You know.

Love you ....

but sometimes

I feel

like

like

like

drawing

a

Nakajima

A6M2n

Type 2

Float Plane

allied code name

Rufe ....

and sometime

I

don't.....

Morning sketch 6/19/2011 11x14 Pencil, Pastel on Paper by Terrence L Cope (click for larger image)

You have to understand,

it's been a while,

too long

The pictures I have when my eyes close are so real

The smell of your hair, sound of your voice,

my heart, my soul, reaches out to feel

Oh, ever so smooth was that touch,

that gentle soft way the satin played

While stars they chase the sun away

And you are so many miles away,

Until I close my eyes......

Morning Sketch 11x14 by Terrence L Cope 06/18/2011

A Masterpiece.

This breath of art

  All clowned up

red and black hair,

drapes like candle wax, 

makeup and tattoo sleeve

... beautiful like a painting,

attitude to hide your age,

very young, but not so much.

They call you whore and it hurts.