| Fingerpainting
Posted: 8/14/2007 10:38:01 AM | Misplaced Poise
Fallen from Grace
Lost without counter
Confusion wanders
in dark exodus
toward redeeming sight
that comes in waves
Fire, water, earth and wind
the pillars of ancient ritual
returning wisdom to light | |
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| Fingerpainting
Posted: 8/14/2007 10:42:00 AM | Breathe
Wind tunnels through vortex of mind
Pathways meld forever
Into now
Lungs fill
And heart
Rattles the bars
Of the rib cage
Let me out!
Let me love!
Let me live!
Prisoner of the constructs
Of accepted reality
Shackled by belief systems
Calcified by repetition
Of words.
Breathe
Release
Expand.
Drum beat of Earth
Of Body
Tidal waves move through eternity
And hit the shore
With the seventh wave.
Drumskin of belly vibrates heartbeat
And breath plays the song of life
Full into being
Down the tailbone
Feet tingle
And dance.
Earth receives.
Breathe
And I fly
Free
Into the cosmos.
Breathe
One with the wind
One breath
Breath of life
Of love
Of living.
Breathe. | |
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| Fingerpainting
Posted: 8/14/2007 11:23:50 AM | | Don Quixote and Ravincause...dazzling seers. Thank you for your enlightened vision and encouragement. Your poems touched me deeply. | |
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| Fingerpainting
Posted: 8/14/2007 4:59:27 PM | I chewed on my fingernails so much on the way to art school
that I fingerpainted my pot by accident
but, it looked really cool
so we tossed it in the kiln and baked it at maximum
 got any chips? | |
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| Fingerpainting
Posted: 8/14/2007 6:45:51 PM | and thanks to you too BD!!! You can always make me laugh...pass the dip! | |
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| Fingerpainting
Posted: 8/14/2007 8:04:16 PM | The Mass
Sitting by the window
fetal pose, knees to chin
Transfixed by Cohen Hallelujahs
I was startled into being
By a penetrating thud.
Heart sinking, I prayed
not again. Outside,
lying motionless
a tiny, speckled, broken bird.
I wanted to hurl a rock through that
glazed cathedral pain of reflection
Prevent another ignoble death
by illusion.
But survival, my lifelong friend
instinctively advocated for
shelter from the weathering.
Kneeling
I covered God’s perfect creation
in a soft blanket of blue flowers
beneath the monolithic evergreen
by the stream.
Weeping with remorse put on
Mozart’s Requiem in D minor
There was nothing more I could do | |
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| Fingerpainting
Posted: 8/16/2007 10:28:09 AM | Cathedral Grove
Filtered
light flickers
playing hide and seek
down arched avenues of
pine needled mossy paths
I once Tangoed, dilated,
sensual, down these primitive
arteries to the waterfall
Now clumsy, buckled
feet shuffle, tripping
on twisted finger roots
and stumbling stones
I backtrack
Standing in the portal
Till the rhythm returns | |
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| Fingerpainting
Posted: 8/16/2007 12:41:52 PM | creative voice
misplaced
edge dulled
on the grinding wheel
of life
diminished by sorrow
still, smoldering coals
hold the essence
leap into flame
with startling
intensity
when triggered
you're such a lovely writer......Cathedral Grove is gorgeous, this is an answer to mutiny.....someone who has so much to say, whether with words or paint, never loses their voice or their vision........ | |
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| Fingerpainting
Posted: 8/16/2007 1:17:40 PM | | XO...thanks Brizo. Your beautiful poem and comments draw me in the warmth of friendship. | |
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| Fingerpainting
Posted: 8/16/2007 1:19:55 PM | Memoirs Of A Girl
Today, a new friend with laser lights
encouraged me to look back at
recessed playgrounds
Regressing,
Shaking inertia from the core
I strolled forgotten dream quests
A light feather dusted sweeping
Back to Chocolat visions
That played in the theatre of my mind
long before the book was released
Where I once painted my future
In a Parisian garret, whirlwinds of
Art, history, music, amor,
sipping decanted cognac
from a pirate’s treasure chest
Or basking La Dolce Vita
somewhere over the rainbow
a vineyard on the Amalfi Coast
wrapped in the language of love
Think I’ll stay here for a while. | |
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| Fingerpainting
Posted: 8/16/2007 7:06:22 PM | | Hop on Drea/LW...there's plenty of room in the winged ark for dreamers like you. | |
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| Fingerpainting
Posted: 8/17/2007 9:48:29 AM | The sky today a rare colour of blue
crisp is the air.....
sunny too!
This day is so lovely...............
my heart could keep it....
paint it again....again....and again.
Reliving it.........
like a painting........
so lovely......
one of more of the heart
My soul finds within it.........
wishes never to part! | |
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| Fingerpainting
Posted: 8/17/2007 10:36:09 AM | | ^^^^Hey girl...nothing but blue skies for you! | |
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| Fingerpainting
Posted: 8/17/2007 10:40:32 AM | DisPossession
When you laid beside me
I abandoned my body to enter yours
When you touched my eyes
I saw through your fingers
When you kissed my mouth
I tasted my return
And when you left
I moved | |
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| Fingerpainting
Posted: 8/17/2007 10:49:56 AM | | Every Poem herein is ART! I love it! | |
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| Fingerpainting
Posted: 8/17/2007 6:04:26 PM | lol ...well here's somemore art for ya...
violins
pool cue strokes
slowly
dedicatedly
rosin?
baby powder..
talc or assbestis
I can feel the tension on the strings
and hear the lightening bugs sing
pesticide and elmers glue
nevermind....moo
I miss you ladies
you're going to make me have to go get laid
we'll all burn in hades
as I welcome the gentlemen to raise | |
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| Fingerpainting
Posted: 8/17/2007 6:42:24 PM |
I miss you ladies
you're going to make me have to go get laid
Oh BD...the heat's getting to you ...skip the pesticides and glue....the baby powder will do! | |
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| Fingerpainting
Posted: 8/17/2007 7:59:28 PM | | Oh dear...sorry DQ...Brawny had me laughing so hard I forgot to thank you for your comment. Always my friend. Please leave some more of your art here! | |
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| Paris
Posted: 8/19/2007 12:41:50 AM | I think I'll paint in Paris for a while.
-------------------------------------------------
Anjou
Oh mon Dieu
Last night’s wine rattles my head
like the pitiless merchant carts
on the cobblestones below.
Face still buried in the pillow I turn
toward the window, one eye
desperately trying to focus on the day
And there it is. The pear I placed on
the ledge to ripen, bathing
in the warmest sunrise I have ever
witnessed. An artist’s gift from heaven.
Shadows appear to split the plump,
bottom into two subtle mounds
A ray curves around the waist
up the spine to the shoulder
A silhouette in repose
My first instinct is to pull the easel
over to the window before the sun
moves another inch in the sky
But it is not just my painter’s eyes
that are hungry.
Rising, I am hesitant to disturb
it’s delicate position still,
the longing will not be denied.
Scooping the pear in my hands,
I sink my teeth into the firm ripe flesh.
Succulent rivulets of nectar flow
down my chin and neck. Closing my eyes
I revel in the moment.
But this is a painter’s story. Softly
I place the pear back on the window sill,
ravaged side to the clamoring street. The light
is harsher now, the shadows shifted and yet,
it will make a pretty painting to sell
at the open market near Café de Flore | |
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| Paris
Posted: 8/19/2007 2:16:17 AM | ^^^inspired me to write the following
She paints in Paris
I sculpture glass in Venice
Glimpse beyond the reflection
I saw you smile and I grin
Two looking into one mirror
Reflection in the arts
The painter lifeless without colour
My blood draining to sculpt the drops
Sitting under the same sunshade
With awnings of shelter in
Witnessing all worlds
We echo the laughter in friendship | |
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| Paris
Posted: 8/19/2007 4:23:36 PM | | AA ...Welcome new friend! What a lovely poem smiling at me. Thank you | |
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| Paris
Posted: 8/19/2007 4:23:57 PM | Wheat Field With Crows
Conceived as an afterthought
My mother’s second failed
attempt at perfection,
one year too late
I am wondering now if this painting
was a premonition
Had I known, I might have
omitted the crows
I don’t regret my time at
Chateau Auvers
in this little two room cell
An asylum from what,
I can’t recall
But an asylum none the less
Swirls of starry night skies
imagined through this six inch oval
window to my soul, I remember
my whores, the untouchable cousins
and Paris.
Absinthe clouds and lead
swallowed in confusion
obscure the insanity
from the insane
A straight edge first on Gauguin
Turned inward, I am bleeding
Spirit to matter. Sorrow
is better than laughing, I wrote
frightening my beloved
keeper Theo into silence
I pass this oval one last time
and fall exhausted into my
deathbed never knowing
the shot brushed by my own hand
in the wheat field today
will fire long after
I am gone.
Vincent | |
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| Fingerpainting again
Posted: 8/19/2007 7:08:01 PM | Last night I painted smiles in the darkness
Into eyes for a dip of heaven
Around the fire we sat
Little creatures watched
From their vantage point
On the edge
Sending
Heebie-jeebies quivering down the spine
I paint to memory the inflections in the voice
The softness of lids covering poems
That wished to be spoken
The smoke of friendship blessed
Long white tendrils of love
Curling up from the land
Twined around our minds
Free
Last night I painted heaven
The sapphire expanse
I flew with the clouds
Past Jupiter
Through the Milky Way
I was and yet I wasn’t
Up their gathering the stars up
In my basket to save as memories
Last night I painted freedom
There are no lines upon the earth
People draw lines
Some you see as mountains
Some not
I rubbed them out
All the way to West Virginia
If you look closely they have disappeared. | |
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