Features for February 27,2011

Sometimes life can get a little hectic.  For this week’s features, I chose artworks that have a calming presence to them.

 
“ a step taken by pure chance, is a step that will soon matter for all eternity ”
Sweet refrain, a violin speaks, to me?  The note pulsates
it twists and turns, looking for somewhere to go, perhaps for someone.
Imagine one day this note will meet that whom it chooses,
stolen glance becomes chance, to receive and hear it all anew, for the very
first time.
Such warmth, a desire to stay and be wrapped in its embrace.
Be quiet, be still, let it receive you, and take you to distant places
you know it happened before … magical.

 Ivory grits its teeth, a note sounds, the call is made
a major effort for a minor key, oh I so love the minor key.
Solemn, intent to draw attention to itself, and then to others
wait, here it comes, revealed in pure splendor for the very
first time.
A minor key speaks of longing, of want, of possibility
perhaps to correct its bent shape, a challenge for now
maybe forever, and it continues on and on and on.


 Canvas heavy with intent, colors dry, lead laden ooze
scrape and claw to take their place, perhaps allow
others to step to the front, better still, lets begin again …
Stroke, colors choose rather then be chosen, for the very
first time.
Splashes of light smile, for they are now set down, a thought
laid down as color, for all to see, to become something,
like part of a dream, stretched out on pure white.

 Every moment is a beginning, and every beginning is a pure moment.
It is out there, perfection waiting to be found, a joyous gift of
a beginning and an end, all wrapped together, pure harmony of
experience realized and received by all, for it lies just around the corner
when chance meets chance, and the end never comes
…it continues as a beginning, for you, for me,
as the moment is found again and again
for the very first time … Forever.
rjheller1150

 
Effleurage…Petrissage (M)
Anoint my flesh with subtle polish.
Lay thy hands upon my body
Tend the need of my lethargy.
Glide & skirt the definition of my symmetry.
Inhale & feast upon my redolence
Permit thine lips to linger upon nape of neck & I fain.
Smooth a persistent path of bare paw over mine brawn.
Savour & sense thy ambient desire.
vampvamp
 
 
The Story Tree
The trees are standing there staring at me
 they’re whispering round
300 years……. 400 years……..
six hundred years
(the train is speeding me through the sub-
way
tunnel)
how many somersaults they watch tumble
as eyes watch their leaves
Fall-
To the ground

Day: in
Day: out
a story’s spring
a story falls

just a brief interlude
before
re-emerging

just a brief interlude
before the return
of spring
dab


The Shapes of Sleep by Rebecca Tun

I’m Yours for the Taking…

I lay wrapped in pretty colours
a delight to anyone’s eye
shed my layers…….
you know you want to

Be tempted I dare you
you know you want me….
I want you to have me
ALL of me…..

Piece by piece
taste each tiny piece of me
before you finally devour me

savouring the taste of me….
my warm, sweet centre
full of honey scented delight
love me I’m yours…….

I’m melting from your warm touch
lick your lips
in satisfaction…..
Oh yes! yes!….
take more of me
ALL OF ME….
consume me………..

so glad your smiling
with delicious delight…
cause I love chocolate too
HEY………. us girls know how to fake it !!!!!!!!!!!!!
SimplyRed


A Walk on the Dark Side #1 by Ben Loveday

Moonlight Sonata in the Palm of a Poet’s Hand

It’s no accident
that light comes through
like mosaics of windowless panes:
from Sunday hats and prayer bowls—
to screaming in a crowded room
no-one can hear

but you.

There are heads that know
no bounds,
and comedians who know
no jokes,
and constellations who’ve forgotten
they are constellations—
who’ve forgotten they were
once upon a time:
a man
a god—
a story only they really
ever knew;

not just
a memory of heaven,
hung
like a world
in a sky
they cannot control,
never-mind, remember.

Is it too much to be
able to call home, home?—
Or turn a mountain into
a bale of hay into
a crystal,
which can still sing
of roots
on top of still mountains

and still recall
every last
humble,
and rustling,
word?

I am calling out to you
from between the lines,
to hear my heart playing
Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata
from the palm
of your outstretched hand,
and to kiss
the sparkle
in my eye:

as a child does
a pane
of clear sunlit glass,

reflecting
only
his love.
Kristin Reynolds


Spares 57 by Alenka Co


the surfers by Ingz

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Features 20/02/2011 – Softly, gently

It’s foggy out there and all the sounds are muted, which led me to today’s theme.

Laurie’s beautiful image is all gentle and quiet. I love the colours and soft feel of it.

Be Still, My Heart by © Laurie Search

Be Still, My Heart by © Laurie Search

Here’s a little something we do well to remember now and again by Rishani.

A breath by © Rishani Sittampalam

Life is but a breath … a whisper in the wind
Here today and whisked away so suddenly.

I love the simplicity and colours of Peter’s lovely shot.

...seedling… by © peter holme III

...seedling… by © peter holme III

Another gentle reminder of what is important by Hollyann.

one drop by © hollyann

one drop
dries up
all alone
but mixed with others
becomes
a puddle
a rivulet
a river
a flood

feeding gentle fishes
tending the sea weed
crystaling salt
and playing tide music

an ocean of beauty
you know
we can’t do this
on
our
own

I’ve always been a fan of Dorina’s art, and this one is special. I love the title and the way she executed this painting, full of questions and doubt and beauty.

Daisies…and doubts by © dorina costras

Daisies…and doubts by © dorina costras

And here’s another of my favourites on RB – Lisa’s poem is mysterious and magical.

mercy by © Lisa Jewell

her alabaster lip
pouted
seductively

her tangled spirit
rolled
achingly

her desire for touch
spilled
into waiting hands

her tears
washed
all the feet that walked into her heart

her heart
broke down
the truth had been lost in lies

her shadow of a vessel
slipped silently
back into the alabaster jar

A little bit more heat now from Randy. I couldn’t resist this clever image – full of fire and passion and more.

Embers by © Randy Monteith

Embers by © Randy Monteith

More passion, even if it’s of a sad kind by SimplyRed. You can’t help but be touched by these words.

Burning of the old Homefire by © SimplyRed

He walks silently through
pristine snowfall
each footstep…. beating crisply
in time with his heart

pumping heart of lonely
but chilled to the very core
the homefire burns
with thoughts of her

there will be no greeting
of warmth nor doorstep of comfort
no welcome mat
of open arms to make him smile

three winters now
since death stole her
creeping in through
night times darkness
swooped away on
wind of ill fate

vacant empty rooms
filled with memories
their love dusting tabletops
and chairs of comfort

footsteps deep and crisp
homeward bound
life now barron
as winters landscape

his breath fogs
as a single tear
tracks an icy cold chill
upon his cheek

Rebecca’s whimsical image brings new hope.

Rays of Sunlight – Morning Mist by © Rebecca Tun

Rays of Sunlight – Morning Mist by © Rebecca Tun

I couldn’t resist this poem by PJ either. For me it’s full of light.

the colors of lightening by © ShadowDancer

He asked her
“Have you ever seen lightening
before it leaves the clouds?”

She softly smiled
and shook her head in response.

(never daring to tell him
that it has 8 colors
and she sees it
every time his eyes meet hers)

There’s something sad about Ruby’s image, but it’s a gentle sadness, one that has almost given up. Touching, very.

God Help The Outcasts by © Ruby Del Angel

God Help The Outcasts by © Ruby Del Angel

Finally, Mohawk Man’s poem. It seemed a fitting match to Ruby’s image and a fitting end for these features.

the insanity of inanity by © mohawk man

Trapped
in all my freedom’s glory
not a care in the world
nor a worry
save the love of my lives

Caged
by the very uselessness that set me “free”
with too much time
to ponder
the what if’s of yesterday

Hopeless
seems tomorrow
regardless of the dreams
of a young man
with the world in his hands

Enjoy!

Features for week of February 13, 2011

e,g,b,d,f by clancy214

every good boy does fine
things to a good girl.

2 cent notebook full
of scribbles and eraser marks
words and pauses / swirling around
looking for each other.

must have perfect pen to continue

Aahhh… by 8upchef

“Relax” she said
Statuesque Redhead
Leather strap tightening
Wrists bound

Dreamt this once
Without the orderlies
Without the pain
Without the shaking

Brunette steps up
Huge needle
“Tiny little pinch…
Enjoy the ride!”

LIAR
Needle tearing skin
Targeting my heart
I feel every millimeter

Then the meds
The cold, liguid stream
Pushing into me
cc after icy cc

Heating slowly in my core
Flowing outward
Slow, warm lava
Carrying relief

My veins swell with it
Each muscle tingles
Frozen prickles
Before it hits

Then nothing
No feeling
Just a warmth
A heavenly calm

Aahhh…

Invisible Lament by jim marshal

I will never be like that,
love.

Sorry but its too late for me to
Begin. I wasn’t baptised,
you see,

no one saw me come in
and no one will see me leave.

I’m only a rogue possibility,
God’s whim, not His
necessity.

I can recite from the peach tablet
of my skin, do you like it
in lowercase?

My voice by SFlora

Sometimes i feel like im wedded to pasivity
I have shed many skins
To be reborn
From myself
From within
But this ingrained
Trainned behaviour
Seems embedded in my brain
I dont camplain
Or wont complain
But should
Not be a slave to the system
To uncontracted duties that demeen
Till my dreams become
To distant to recall
And remain unseen
For fear of the fall
Of unimagined consequenses
Where is the choice in this
When the option is
Automatically erased
And the thought censored
And why does my strength vanish
When i need it most
When the suit is boss
My voice is a ghost
And i am lost
In the tension
Between where i am
And where i want to be
Who i am
And who i could be
The longer i stay
The more i know
That i dont belong
In places where ticking of clocks
Are in sync with hearts beats

By your side… by lisameryl

Life’s a never ending journey
full of good and bad
with peace and worry
both bittersweet and sad…

The world will always judge
some may tear into you
many will hold a grudge
leaving you down and blue…

There will be tough days
we’ll see this through together
I’ll never let you go it alone
for you’ve always got a friend…

I leave you with these words from my heart and soul
with all my love always…

For truth be told
I’m with you everyday
we’ll brave the cold
sheltering eachother along the way

I’ll be by your side
when you’re out of place
there’s no need to hide
you’ll never fall from grace

When your soul needs relief
count on me forever
during your time of grief
fighting it through together

Your life is never in vain
have faith in tomorrow
I’ll see you through the pain
removing all your sorrow

When you’re in doubt
caught in much despair
you’ll never do without
I’ll always be there

Don’t come clean, just come by DominicSavio

Jesus
I run at You like a grubby child
filling Your nostrils with
a bouquet of
mistakes
that I handpicked from my own garden [I
forgot You had one]
and I watch the shadows in Your
face
[as a worm from my dress falls into Your sandal]
its as if the lines
the very geometry of Your skin
spell love more than word or deed of humans in
our finest
production.

How Your cheek leans in toward my
slimy fingers!
How your words
caress
my ears!
[And how surely this fog between my eyelids dissipates]

Thought-provoking/somewhat erotic – challenge winner

In our latest challenge, we searched for those images that touched our soul, while titillating our sensual nature. Please congratulate (and purchase some of her pieces, why not?) Margaret Bryant for her winning work: Stone Cold Fox Says Reading is Sexy. And, to top it off, it’s a self-portrait! That’s double the genius…

 

8th Feb 2011 features – Touched By Fire

It’s great that there’s so much excellent work in the Touched By Fire group that I was able to go through just a portion of the gallery looking for art that could specifically be interpreted as meaning “touched by fire”, AND I was spoilt for choice!

Mundoo 49 by Alenka Co
Touched by an inner glow

Effervescence by LisaMM
Touched by a searing passion

Inferno by ajgosling
Touched by lightning

DON'T LOOK BACK!! by Sherri...Charmaine Nicholas
Touched by God’s wrath

Patience, Claire. by Matteo Pontonutti
Touched by magic

Lake of golden light - swan silhouette by Penny V P
Touched by the setting sun

LOVE - Seascape by Linda Callaghan
Touched by unquencahble infatuation

Moo Two - by pauldrobertson
Posessed by a burning rage

I Am Woman, So Am I by Leni Kae
Touched by a lover – the joyful inner heat

The loss of sanity by scott black
Tortured by a relentless sorrowful energy

The Surface of the Sun by Martin Millar
Touched by the beauty of light

Sun-racer by Penny Kittel
Moved by the exhilarating heat of the moment

by Rebecca Tun
xxx

Spread the Fire: Sacrifice like a babe in the belly

A touching, beautiful poem by Kristin Reynolds was worthy of a Spread the Fire feature:

Soon the walls will collapse,
the fields turn commonwealth gray,
the sun will become red
with tears—

while the moon recites Winken, Blinken and Nod
under covers with arsenic lace,
and the secret sunny-eyed pearl
I’m growing in the wicker-man’s
false-bottom garden,
will flicker
and spit at the shadows—

as time raises fists to fire
blowing a prison yard wind,
and deserts eclipse
every bone I’ve buried
like a dog

(a small god
who’s reversing her name)

whose tides are pinned
to her chest,
while her love of bones is suckled
torrentially painfully
dry

like long shafts of wheat
in my hair,

and foxtails
beneath my skin

after the burn of deluge.

I have given
and I have received
violets and black widows, both

with the innocence
of a dreaming child
picking wildflowers
from mother’s wild garden
on a clear
and warm Summer’s day—

for the love
I thought I’d forgotten
in my creases
of abalone skin.

© Kristin Reynolds 2 2 2011