Two abandoned rings
underline your absence,
leave a vapour trail of emotion
across a sky where stars, this day,
Love has been eclipsed
by a black moon,
and the chill of outer space
invades my universe.
Written for the Mag 146, thanks to Tess andMan Ray's Object to be Destroyed.
Sepia Saturday featured an old photo of two little girls, so I played with this modern one of my two sweetie pie granddaughters, and aged it accordingly.Guess they should have been wearing frilly white cotton frocks, don't you think? :) But I began thinking of 'the sister I never had,' and the following lines wrote themselves!
I never had a sister,
so I guess I missed a
lot of fun.
I may have done...
but who knows?
We may have come to blows!
Although I think not.
I had a brother and we swapped
mostly laughs and jokes
and learned to poke
fun at ourselves, too.
That was a good thing to do,
for a little mirth
a mountain of tears,
in later years!
the power of
words, when they are
allowed to become the focus
of a writer’s attempt to explain
an idea on a page. Immediately, our
eyeballs as well as brains begin to display
a need for some sense of order, and suddenly
the poet departs, leaving in his place a mere writer!
Okay, so it's only Thursday, but I will be able to link this ready made post first thing on Friday!
A bit of fun for Friday - I wonder who will be the first to email me with three correct answers? Please email me direct, if you think you know what they are, then it won't stop later visitors from having to use their grey cells too!
The metal blade is sharp and thin
its point is ready to plunge in-
but not to flesh, simply to paper
an ideal, paper sculpture maker.
Our grate was covered with black lead,
but mine remains inside my head
and body, too; throughout it's length
my wooden bones will give it strength.
I'm drowning from the inside out,
and steam clouds billow from my spout.
When my hot spots start to bubble,
stand well clear for T means Trouble!
140 characters are all Grandma's Goulash asks for to encapsulate the picture she has chosen today, a good test of the grey cells. Of course, if you are feeling verbose, she will allow you to use 140 words instead.
Something fishy is going on around here! Guy's aren't conforming to the school uniform. They'll end up in hot water, if they aren't careful.
He had done the painting of their new home soon after they married. It was to be her birthday gift; a gift that would acquire more importance as their time together stretched into the future, strengthening bonds.
She adored it, hung it in pride of place over the mantel. A day never passed without her smiling as she glanced towards the familiar image and remembered...
Now, she remembers when he was alive, and as shadows dim sunlight, so her face loses all brightness as the first tear falls.
For Mag 139, thanks to Tess and Curtis Wilson Costwho painted the original image.
For this week's Mag 137, Tess gave us a picture by Francesca Woodman. For some strange reason the shadowed face brought to mind a quote from William Shakespeare's As You Like It - to wit "sans hair, sans teeth, sans taste, sans everything"- and by the time I'd 'played' with the image, these words became even more relevant.
With apologies to Tess, Francesca and William, here is my take on the theme.
Mere shadows of our former selves, we cry,
pleading for more attention. Will we die
unshriven, shrivelled up and forgotten?
As weary flesh and bones crumble, rotten,
past repair, will they remember times when
we would feast on love, feast on it again,
until replete? Who could be berated
for wishing time would halt? We are fated
to be at its mercy, no turning back
to seek love's sustenance which we now lack.
What's sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander... The twirl in Salle's picture made me start to wonder. I twirled it yet more, then cropped to reveal a negative whirlpool which had more appeal,
at least, to my eyes...And now it is changed
I find it more pleasing with things rearranged. I prefer these cool blues, with their watery theme, to his brick red assemblage on which I'm less keen. But one lesson I've learned, as I've slowly grown older, that beauty resides in the eye of Beholder!
Another offering for Mag 136, inspired by Tess and David Salle.
He'd sailed all seven seas, but never found
one who could run his wave-locked keel aground
on the shores of passion. Until they'd met
and touched lips. Their breath and heart beats mingled,
and she was singled out to be his love,
to dance throughout eternal swathes of Time.
Undercurrents of blue ocean swells
formed the bed on which fair Venus lay
to entertain her valiant pirate lover...
With thanks to Tess, whose Salvador Dali illustration on the Mag 135 inspired this blogpost..
And spheres within spheres
whose grains seep through history,
with the wisdom of fools
building volumes of posterity's future.
The blank pages
and spaces between words
allow alternative realities to creep in;
hovers beyond awareness,
waiting for a turn of the glass,
waiting for a new beginning
which is only an action replay of the past.
fill my heart with joy.
to plucked strings of memories
I hold in my mind,
and I feel
sound waves wrap me round
as I drift
with the tide
which carries me on currents
of swirling music.
Inspired by Tess and Fernand Leger on the Mag 134.