Michael Fuchs - Maler, Grafiker, Architekt

You are the Mirror

You are the mirror of
The one who from on high
Sends his eternal dove
To keep you in his heart
To save you from the lie
And give you a new start.

The chasm that you see
Is deep within your soul.
The clock ticks one, two, three.
You feel the heaviness,
You're searching for the goal,
You're paying more for less.

Beyond the race of time
There waits a universe,
Tuned to the cosmic chime.
Its dance is never ending,
In metre, rhyme and verse
Its will to God's will bending

The junction is where we
Will meet when all is done.
There, stands the sacred tree,
Its branches are bent low
And fruit filled with the sun
And graces do there grow.

There, heaven meets the earth
And earths their guiding stars
To celebrate their birth,
To gaze upon the face,
That holds within its scars
Salvation's sweet embrace.

The joyous legions march,
Their crystal voice resounds
Above the pointed arch
Below the azure dome,
To fly by leaps and bounds
The milky way to comb.

The fields of grazing that
Are promised to the ones
Who enter through the gate
Of auric lacerations
Are waiting for the sons
And daughters of the nations.

He's sailing Saturn's rings
To trace their spangled trails.
This to the traveler brings
Vistas to delight in
That he may spread his wings As his spirits brighten.

We shall with tambourine's
And mandolin's refrain
Give answer to machines,
That through the ages past
Gave birth to so much pain
And hatred unsurpassed.

Our songs on angel's wings
Shall to the heavens fly
To sing of joyous things.
We will with purest light
Paint mysteries on high
Of spirits true and bright.

The road to perversion
Away has taken us
From total immersion
Into living water.
And having fallen thus,
We flee from the slaughter.

The day side and the night
Side of my soul have been
A battleground that might
Forever take its toll
And leave me paper thin
And leave me dark as coal.

But I will scale the rungs
Of Jacob's ladder and
To the sounds of saints' tongues
Will pitch in my faint voice
And with their help command
The serpent's scattered noise.

The jackal, rat and snake
With unrelenting pace,
Snap at my heels and take
A portion of my flesh
And seek in me a place,
There with me to enmesh.

The stake pitched on the mound,
A scull beneeth its base,
Shall the whole world round
Be the nations' beacon,
For every class and race
Satan's grip to weaken.

Southpaw has been fired,
The crooked rookies scathed.
The offspring that they sired
Have to the dregs been sent.
And there with brimstone bathed.
They are forever bent.

Flagellation's torments
Shall be now the meat for
Tyrants and informants.
They the drops must swallow
Of venom that they pour,
The scum wherein they wallow.

Tyrant's vanity stuns
The honest worker who
For lack of knives and guns
Cannot eliminate
The scabs that will not do
What he must emulate.

Once the bones of those swine
Have with the grinding stone
Been ground to powder fine,
Their hearts on platters served
We'll sing in gracious tone
"They got what they deserved".

This ongoing poem
Tells in rhyme and metre,
With words that will show them
That we plainly see
Their perverted leader
And his idolatry.

Good cops, bad cops tell us
Words for their promotion,
Words completely useless,
Words that relate nothing
But fears and emotion.
Words we hear with loathing!

Who with mitre and crook
With blood upon their hands,
With lust at this world look,
The other world disdain,
Have built upon the sands
A mansion full of bane. .

Bound by evil's system
Communication's lords
Take God's laws and twists them.
Take God's child and rents him
And kills him with the sword.
Fills the chalice to the brim.

Leadership is wanting,
Demagogues are chiming,
Politicians ranting,
And pontificating,
Truth to lies they're rhyming,
Nations suffocating

Laying well protected
Within its mother's womb
The child's been rejected
And now must face its death.
Its house is now its tomb,
Its taken its last breath.

The man who killed the child,
Discarded its remains
With the other garbage,
Treacheries high has piled
And covered with blood's stains
The steal vaults of his carnage

That babe now in heaven
Is feeding on the light.
The meal's course is seven.
Served by living creatures
To recompense its plight
And reform its features.

To meet that blesséd child
To kiss its rosy cheeks
To see its face beguiled
By grace's lovely wreath
And listen as it speaks,
Would God to me bequeath!

Tellurian beauty
Ever me enraptures,
All my senses captures.
And I do my duty
To plough and plant the seed
That life on you may feed.

Chaste and wondrous orb,
Veiled in sweetest azure
The sunlight to absorb.
The twinkle in God's eye,
In Him you rest assure
And in your orbit fly.

In the pristine river,
On the fruited meadow,
Earth the rotund giver,
Full of good and wealth
On us her gifts bestow
To keep us in good health.

Through Luna, we Sol's gift
In her full bloom received,
That our steps would not drift
Our passage be sustained
And we'd not be deceived,
Night's darkness be contained.

Silver orb in waiting
You are Gaea's maid
Your service she's awaiting.
To cast the captured rays
Of Helios' cascade,
Of his glorious blaze.

When upward my eyes gaze
My spirit takes the time
Heaven's beauty to praise,
Within me all is still
My soul and body rhyme
And my heart takes its fill.

The planets run their course,
By them we tell the time
We seek to find the force
That keeps them on their path.
We'll find the source sublime
When we do the math

Through the clouds and beyond
An arrow makes its way
Itself with space to bond.
There sits inside a god
Of spirit made and clay
Lord of this silver rod.

He'll soar to planet's plain,
The realms search for a sign
Of imperial reign,
Intelligent design.
There glories to compare
And in those glories share.

Artemis' lambent rays
Discend from her quiver
To touch my wistful gaze.
Flowing through the night
Like a silver river
Love's longing to incite.

In Helios' theater
A spectacle is held.
He mimes the creator
With jovian delight
And is by none excelled
And none compare in might.

The race that there is run
Akin is to a clock.
The orbits that are spun
Enumerate the years
And liken to a flock
That to the Lord adheres.

The great house on the hill
Was rased and shall never
Be restored to fulfill
A holy sacrifice.
The man who died, forever
Has payed for us the price.

The great boat's opening
Was a gateway to life
At that first christening.
All were saved that entered
That hold with promise rife
And to floods surrendered.

The blood and the water
Flows through the temple's side
From the holy altar
Tribes to rejuvinate
And cleanse from lust and pride.
Their death to terminate.

The lance that has been thrust
To pierce the innocent
Victim of crimes, who must
Our crimes and hate repay
To staighten out the bent
And save from death's decay

He is berieved and moans
At the loss of his years.
Looking he sees the stones
Cast out to pave a path
On the lake of his tears,
To escape despair's wrath.

From one stone to another
He leaps and finds his way,
Never has to bother
With serpents at his feet
Who would him keep at bay
And grind his flesh like wheat.

His life his precious blood
They wantonly would drink.
At him unleash a flood
His bones and spirit break,
His hopes and future sink,
His visions from him take.

But he the hero will
After being beaten,
His limbs asunder torn
Drink from the cup his fill.
This his end will sweeten
The day he is reborn.

He then will look upon
Them, who with greed and hate
Their treacheries have spun,
His soul to entangle.
But they will seal their fate
And themselves will strangle.

The hero then shall open
The flood gates of mercy.
Life's darkness we grope in
Will be beaten back.
He will quench the thirsty,
To them their life bring back.

Upon Ararat's mount
The ark has come to rest,
The living in full count
Reconciliation Receive that will arrest
Their annihilation.

On Sinai were given
The tablets of the law
To us who are driven
By hate's nihilism
That us away would draw
From love's realism.

On Tabor we first saw
The word of God in glory
The prophets and the law
He fulfilled forever.
He changed our history,
The chains of death did sever.

The Master on mount Sion
With the twelve in prayer
Offering bread and wine
The sacraments us gave,
The cross of love to bear.
Through these he would us save.

On the Mount of Olives
The blood he sweats is fear.
Fear that makes our lives
Free from dreadest error
Of the end that draws near,
Of a death in terror.

On the rock of the scull
The Son of Man is raised.
His suffering makes null
The error of our sins
Thus darkness is erased.
Eternity begins!

Mountains and hills are kin
To altars high where God
Unto himself has taken
Those who at deathrow balk
That they might by his rod
Be led life's path to walk.

My special one's like snow's
Pure white complexion.
Of all that from God flows
She's the true reflection.
She is the beacon's beam,
And of the crop the cream.

Pure snow falling softly
Like thoughts deep and lofty
From angels to us sent,
Are like dainties after lent
To feed our withered souls
That liken empty bowls

Snow is silent and clean
And from heaven falling
She softens all the mean
Screachings of the city,
Mutes coarse voices calling
With her sweet humility.

I will to call you in
To my life and my love
That from the very start
Was pure and without sin
And graceful like a dove,
My immaculate heart!

I've been watching you from
Love's heaven where I live.
Thus to you I have come
To lead you through the gate,
You of His love to give,
Your soul to satiate. .

The apple of Love's eye
Am I and you of mine.
Loving bands we will tie
And from the golden cup
Imbibe redemption's wine
And with Redemption sup

You hear my voice sing praise,
See my face uplifted
To the Ancient of Days
To the throne of Powers,
Giver to the gifted,
Beauty on us showers.

Behold your mother's hands.
Graceful and strong they hold
The bounty of the lands,
The glory of the mountains,
Take us into their fold,
And bid drink from her fountains.

My breasts give comfort to
The thirsty who seek peace
And seeking it pass through
This life's tribulations.
These sufferings will cease,
I shall feed the nations.

The hands of the High Priest
Held high the blessed Host.
The charge against us ceased
Thus the flood gates of grace
Were opened to the lost,
Who to God sing their praise.

I listen to the heart
Beat of the one I love.
Singing a hymne I start
To hear the procession
Of those who from above
Of life take possession.

My cheek upon his chest,
His hands are holding mine.
My soul has come to rest,
Tomorrow he'll be gone,
He's given us the wine
He will his work have done

Treachery and deceit
Dine with us this last time.
The Master washed our fee
And gave us bread to eat
Even to the one
Who of evil is the son.

Where was the mother when
The last feast was given?
She paced her room and then
By her love was driven
In pain to seek her son,
Her first, her only one.

She seeks him in the streets
Where she hears the rumors
Of his arrest and meets
The rabble's frenzied hate,
Their souls like foul tumors
Whoes growth will seal their fate.

It's dark, she sees a light
That from a window glows
And shadows on the walls
Of figures out of sight
Of shapes she somehow knows.
A voice behind her calls.

She turns around and sees
A women veiled in black
Bent down upon her knees
Her arms spread out in prayer
And pulling her veil back
These words she speaks to her.

"My mother and my queen,
Of sin free and endowed
With beauty never seen
And graces uncounted.
Victrice of the proud
Solace of the daunted.

Sweet music in a world
That by noise is haunted.
Your mantle you unfurled
And roses from it flow
As virtues in you glow,
That are as white as snow.

Your meekness like a sword
Will deal a lethal blow
To him who with hate's word
Seeks envy's sin to sow
And spawn from evil's seed
Every godless deed.

You are the bush that burns
But never is consumed
The fate of this world turns
On the word you've spoken
We all would have been doomed
And be forever broken"

The boy who romped and played
And on your bosom laid
Today will in his death,
Today with his last breath
Give life to the many
He is the milk and honey.

The king's insignia are
What her son is wearing.
She sees him from afar,
A crown his head is tearing,
Streams of blood downward flow
From the child's blessed brow.

By devine husbandry
He made the garden's tree
But now he must carry it
And be raised like the snake,
That the holy prophet
Made for Isreal's sake.

He carrys like Isaak
The wood up the hillside
Laden upon his back
That hangs on scarlet shreds
To overcome our pride
That like cancer spreads.

The Most High dejected
Hangs, limbs torn asunder,
Utterly rejected.
Laughter roars like thunder
From the rabble gathered,
They have their sentence fathered.

The carnage is now done,
By which our lives are saved.
To his father he's gone.
Eternal life is ours.
Secured by what he braved
In those darkest hours.

The Master and The Muse

Through the streets he made his way deep in thought
To the bridge near the citadel and stopped,
Surprised by a glimpse of a face that sought
Through its translucent veil a way that would
Save its mistress from the garrulous crowd.
It was in that moment that their eyes met.
Her friends, known to him, beckoned with a nod
To meet the one on whom his eyes were set.
By then the sun was low and cast a spell
With crimson rays upon her lowered brow
That now uncovered would a stone compel
To raise a hymn and to the lady bow.
What powers stars to planets do attract
Hold sway between the two to forge a pact.

The light fell on the amber brilliance
Of her tresses that with rhythmic pleasure
Alighted on her white shoulders like a dance.
The master then with studious measure
Commenced to build an image of the one
Whom beauty had ordained his muse to be.
She had consented by the setting sun
To sit for him whose visions we can see
In artistries of color shape and line,
That through out the years our lives have graced.
With bright glimpses of heavenly design,
That we by these echoes might be embraced.
The Artist through his artist form will lend
To his creation and to beauty's end.

Master and muse were by walls enveloped
And together formed a bond strong and deep,
That with the portrait would be developed
And like that room the two a unit keep.
Painterly but with few colors rendered
Her likeness in line was contained yet free
To coalesce with shapes that engendered
The quintessential image that we see.
Proportion, weight and mass together made
The foundation that we through light perceived
Upon which textured surfaces were layed
And atmospheric subtlety received.
The painting in its entirety shows
The measure of the man and how he grows.

A wondrous thing this portrait is whose face
Gazes out from the confines of its frame
And patiently awaits our eyes embrace
To give it life as if it were a flame,
That from Apollo's crown through space is hurled;
Thus art from art proceeds and is renewed.
A wondrous thing this world within a world
That with the eye and minds eye is reviewed.
The painting reveals the regal presence
Of the women and to what heights
Her heart aspires, that without pretense
Good finds in all whereon her mind alights.
Her virtue by her beauty will be crowned
And that beauty to her virtue bound.

With tender touch of the brush he completed
Their shared labor the portrait of the muse,
She resplendent in robes of silk seated,
He standing with palette in hand to use
As a spawning ground for light and shadow,
That joined, form an image that joins the two,
Who gazing in each others eyes avow
Their love and drinking from that love imbue
A love that all love feeds and feeding
All love completes and to them new life gives,
That they may climb the mountain leading
To the fountain of life and all that lives.
Wisdoms gracious hand will life's element
Yet be spending when this life's days are spent.

A limpid breeze aroused the garden's pond
A lark alighted on a chestnut tree
The waves and the trees and the breeze grew fond
Of eachothers wisperings, their symphonies.
Butterfies fluttered by velvet flowers
Like jewels aflight, hovering they paused
Above cups quenched by morning showers
To drink their heady sweetness that had caused
Their stems to bend. They bending strained to kiss
The scented tapestry of Gaea's robe,
Thus kiss for kiss was cause for Flora's bliss
That gives abundance to the fruited globe.
Our lovers joined, their love do consumate
And thus cosumed their love do celebrate.

Again an image of the muse was wrought
To give the world an icon of her face
Thus from her tabernacle God's new thought
Will come to us and with us take it's place.
With each generation comes a light
That in our hearts the seeds of promise plants
Before it passage takes into the night That in time passage to a new day grants.
The master overjoyed anticipates
The advent of his child who is the fruit
Of worldly acre and heavenly estates
And workings that no man can compute.
To humankind's ardour and broken state
Is life's seed given new life to create.