Features for week of August 29, 2011

Barely There by lroof

You don’t make sense, why should i? by DominicSavio

if i
bathe Your
feet
in
tears
will You call me Mary and
remember my
face?
will you embrace me
if I left
my
limbs
in the past?
can
You
stretch out my love
like
elastic to make it
last?
will
You touch me because i dance?
[am i lego
because You always
take me
apart
and put me back
together
again
but You said
this isn’t a coincidence
when
i begged You
“please
no more coincidences
i just need
to
heal”]

You Will Hinder My Growth No More Love… by Christina Rodriguez

Oddly pertinent gibberish by redolentquill

I live hoping,
one day to see-
the world bursting
out, in cackling poetry.
Bizarre dreams !?
Logic pockets
were ever undone at seams…
Still pure, still unsure!
And certainly finding yin!

Horses galloping over clouds
across fields of carrots
and cheeky tomatoes
and splat, I end
gooey-kneed, elbowing
pulpy tomatoes, blowing
steam off my nose-
and yet I’m a rose!
You’ll baptize me ever again-
the golden bud flower grain.

I come noiselessly washing
down every terrain-
water and rain
never slain, never slain!
Alone, the drops close on me
enclose me in a globe, show me
the meaning of chills-cold-within
the forming of pearls-old-akin.

Occupied or deserted,
I am but space!
Time, how do you
manage to coil
infinitely around
me, telling me at
every bend, that
you are new, and
that ‘its’ you!

outcast by strawberries

Coin Tale by Arcadia Tempest

A compliment from a stranger is that unverified hello that contains the unknown.
I saw her today.
I’m the stranger and she’s the other stranger with our feet sweeping the same track most mornings.
The track is our unlikely cement match maker.
She first caught my attention by her presence.
Some people can stand in a way that even from the back you know they brim with a modest self assurance, a tidy kind of confidence.
I love it when I see the picture from a back view.

Her hair intrigues and conjures lovely thoughts.
I’d like to hold a few strands of her hair and let the sun bring out the hidden tints but it’s also not a comfortable aspiration.
My hesitation comes with my usual indignant pause that I’m once again proving I’m not like the others that gather each morning as we wait for that over zealous decibel rated school bell to ring.

This morning my words had formed to speak to her about her beautiful red hair but instead I gulped inwards and my resolve fell under my shoes and I scuttled away.
Then there it was, I looked back right into her face and it hit me ….I realized I didn’t want to know her face.
There was no connection to the front of her, I only wanted to speak my words in my head to the back of her.
I want this relationship to be a one sided coin.
I know I will enjoy our next conversation when she walks ahead of me in that steady language of easy east going west step.
Ohh…I hope she steps into the sunlight for me.

© K S Hardy 2011

Bruise by Glitterfest

regrets by Nathan Emery

the unrest in my heart
to hear your voice
and feel your lips and skin
will not subside.
i miss you,
though it’s been barely a week
but your eyes
and voice still haunt me.
the memories,
are so amazing;
the concrete jungle and the canopy
of glass and brick
stretching so far above us,
but not above our hearts.
i think i love you…
and it terrifies me
because maybe it’s just what you were,
and not what you are,
but it’s love all the same.
how i wish,
to see you tonight,
and every other night after
holding my hand
and holding my heart.
i’d be lying if i said it wasn’t hard
to leave you 500 miles
behind.

Clipped by Matteo Pontonutti

i breathe in Red by Greeneyedlady

i hear her whisper
how old is this tight place
drawn over your heart?
it is as old as Forever, i reply

i feel lightheaded
the air is hot now and heavy
with a moisture that will not fall
still crystalline tears
scratch their way down my face
waves of arid cries that once could die
in my throat
threatening, threatening

my body burns and tingles
it’s energy glowing Red
weaving around my edges
it pounds across my head
and breaks away
i breathe in Red
i push angry fire out
at least that little bit escapes
i hear the rest of it clamoring
waiting enviously to follow

Angry Monsters by Barbara Zuzevich

remember that, always. by Alondra Blick

Your eyes open slowly
and once again
I am on a long road
watching the dawn
ache across that pale
sky.
We are quiet
enough
to hear the sparrows
rise miles off
in the distance
and the lightness
is unbearable.
It is the small things
that will return
to you.
Remember that
always.
The smell of thunder
when you lifted your hand
past me
to light a cigarette.
The perfect sorrow
of sadness and smoke.
As we drive,
the sun beats from
behind the blur of
the trees
and the skyline
and I think,
what a strange beauty
it is
that from the moment
we met
the world has seemed to
rush by
with no form.
Just a wash of colours
and changing light
through your open
car window.

Features for the week of 7/17/11

Dreamy…neurotic…eerie. Enjoy =)

[ tren de vise ] by
[ tren de vise ] by Irina & Silviu Szekely


Goodnight by ajgosling

Crawl Away
The Red runs all down your arms, from the mess where your fingertips used to be, to the slices on your palms, to the grazes on your forearms. There are only two things going through your mind.
One, get somewhere small, dark and safe.
Two, how good The Red feels now that it’s all over you again.
You pull yourself to somewhere dark and safe, where the little shadow boy inside you comes out again, and his tears mix with The Red and you take your grief out on the thinning crystal box of your mind.
A Boy called Star


a symptom of neurotic insecurity by strawberries

The Collector II
People placed just so
Against a wall
Or in a corner
Ready to be moved
At a moment’s whim
A world filled with
Statues, puppets
A shadow play
Everything stays
Monochrome
A game
A toy train
Going round
Round in circles
Choo-choo
A one-way street
No connection
Just a need
Born from the want
To belong
Reviewed with
A smug smile
A pleased grin
A blindfold
Glued to the face
Until the day
The light goes off
The ceiling comes down
The walls fall apart
Brick by brick
No safety net
All is still
All is quiet
No reply
No answer
The blindfold slips
Realisation hits
The world
Has moved on
Somewhere else
Sybille Sterk


Waiting to Hatch by Matteo Pontonutti

Existence
This mound of earth
No longer an island home for thousands,
Surrounded by the sea
The sea that gently, but insistently
Lashes against it sides
Eating away at it until it is no more
And no one remembers
If it ever existed here
And I,
Just like the mound of earth
My body tugged at
By death
Gently, but insistently,
Firmly,
Until I am no more
And no one remembers,
If I ever existed here.
Paul (Quixote) Alleyn


Midnight at La Fenice by AngiandSilas

States of Known Depression
Circular characters darken the front of the stand alone train
Following trails of thought across tracks in the deep winters rain
Cold and lonely existence through states of known depression
Memories infest and embed like maggots manifest repression
Swatting the fly on the wall, ending life with no thought
Stains of blood creep down, infectious to the mind you caught
In the open room where nothing is there, walls washed white
All known desires fade, adrenaline kicks in, fight or flight?
Question the means and purposes of the dissonant realms
Incoherent dispiriting attacks devastate and overwhelm
What is the purpose?
Why does one wish to acquire happiness?
A useless yet desirable state
Intense joy a depressive learns to dispossess
As we constantly think about our inevitable fate
Death
A taboo to talk but an act we do alone
In our own time, without rational choice
Screaming at loved ones in angry tones
The ones who look forward are the ones that constantly look back…
Regretful people who wanted a different course through life
Wishing to change decisions and cut old journeys with a knife
Envying the people who are happy and ignorant
Ones with minds free of impotence
Depression an illness that catches the many
Locking themselves in, throwing away the key
Offer a hand, be willing to see
That depression is an illness, and depression caught me.
HamperRefuser


The Waning Phase of The Man in The Moon by Laughing Bones

Psychic in Cyberspace
“I see a man mistakenly
in love with a computer,
with its sublimely neutral
world of details blooming
bountiful in its infinitely
trivial vitality, and he is
probing manfully for that
one essential but improbable
fact, that microscopic
mechanism throbbing
sweetly somewhere out
in the exponentially,
increasingly populous
night between the stars –
or the atoms – but the
virtual universe has such
surface-tension shimmering
iridescent all over the
theoretically expanding bubble
… bursting someday… so
hurry, hurry and locate
and identify it before she
can flower and fruit and
give birth to the competition.”
nancyames

 
All I Ever Wanted Was Your Heart by ewanthot

Untitled (by Tycatz)

Sometimes heartbreak is summarized in simple, direct English.

It’s hard enough for me to accept
And cope with
The fact that for some reason
You can’t be here,
So it’s unfathomable
When you say this whole time
You never even wanted to.

It feels as though
You lied
About ever loving me at all.

 

Visit Tycatz’ profile at RedBubble.

TBF Features for the week of May 2, 2011

Greetings, bubblers and TBF enthusiasts. It’s only Tuesday, but there’s still time to enjoy a week of features, full of intensity and longing.

Janie’s got a gun... by Tracey Mac

What do you see underneath? by cerphotography

The leap by Jessica Andrews

Every Little Peace by Mui-Ling Teh

Fusion by Manana11

i just want to feel by vampvamp

La Odisea by Erika .

I pray,
that the ship of dreams you sail on conquers the storms of the gods and the tempests of the sea: battle mighty Orion and reach the Northern Star; and all through the night I shall witness the golden victories you leave in your wake.

I’ve heard of dark legends coating the deepest of seas and myths of winged lions guarding perils of every kind. Blood-thirsty fiends and goddesses shall coat our eyes in magic spells and stand in between our destinies, but all in vain, for we know our heart’s truth is embedded into one another.

The wars and lands we’ll cross shall be many and great, and I will record my days and weave in my sadness into the loom of poetry. We’ll worship the lands of the moon and the glow of the midnight stars before they can grant us our prayers…but meanwhile, tears stain a violet hue upon my cheeks for all the love-moments stolen by Time.

And across the roaming earth, galleons of clouds swallow the dark vault of night at the summon of the goddess of dreams, and once more our souls traverse reality to ascend the lofty heights of the heavens: for it is here, our lover’s tryst, in these dreams tucked under our starlit wings where our god-cursed journey ends and our time begins despite the miles of storms in between –

we are invincible to the wrath of the gods, my Odysseus
for we know our love stands stronger than the mightiest world.

Mind your self  by dab –

On the difference between
Soldier and Warrior
Both in battle, full of ardor
One’s thinking for himself
Other’s following orders
A human being
Shirking his own Mind
Will wilt and decay
As a tree, or algae
Shirking their ability
To transform light
Into food-energy

Lemming by lovelyrita

I am not the moon
to her planet
or the tattoo on her arm

but you squeezed me through the needlepoint,

where I became a design of orbit
she fashioned with her time (and mine)
circling her arm,

her right hand man,

waiting to be told
when and where and
what to spin.

Royal Wedding Haiku 2: The Future Queen and I by Tuliptree

I have more freedom
than the most envied woman
in the UK does.

E Man Tribute (pt. 1) by wordthrift

here in Angeles
I’m just the same,
a needle in the hay
lost to miss misery
with no name.
My speed trial
in search of Amity, Amity, Amity, Amity, Amity,
Amity, Amity,
she was someone I used to know,
dancing a number 2 waltz.
She would not say yes,
life lived between the bars
is not happiness.

Forgiveness by MaryMac

This short is a memory with my two brothers and me. My mom is driving and our heads are bopping. This is dedicated to my momma. 
Someone wrote cruel words about her and my entire family last night. Someone who doesn’t know her, me, or my family. He also wrote cruel words about my BEST friend. 
This short is to wash that away.

The person who wrote those words. I love you, I do.
I don’t know you but I can’t help my spirit is drawn to you. 
Peace and happiness I’ve always tried to convey. 
I see the good in you…not the hate. 
Peace, love, and happiness to ALL in the World.

FORGIVENESS
The radio blares, “…joy to the fishes and the deep blue sea joy to youandme.”

Lakehurst Mall…Three Wimpey Hamburger joints

Escalator take you atop…view open space, two cars one truck.

Biggest pair of Levi-Stratus Blue Jeans I ever did see

Blue Smiley face with stick-body charm… adhered to a chain around my neck

Pistachio ice-cream in a bowl please, with two maraschino cherries ontop.

The radio blares, “…ride, captain ride upon your mystery ship, be amazed at the friends you have here on your trip…”

Lake Hurst Mall

© 02/27/2011
tylerpuppy


Wishlist, a writing challenge

Though the TBF members were so very shy about this challenge (only one work was submitted), we celebrate pauldrobertson‘s Soliloquy, charcoal+chalk, the truth about suicide

 

Soliloquy. Charcoal and white pastel. My former companion, lover and friend, sat for me though she really wanted to go outside and play in the sprinklers.
160×120 cm

She is so still, so still.

The way she sits with such delicacy, perfect and human.

Exquisite… she is so breathtakingly beautiful that it hurts me to look at her.
It makes me ache for her. For her sadness that I know so well; For the scars upon her sweet skin. For her, for her.
For her.
That this moment shall ever have to end.

And here is the truth about suicide, or one of the greatest of truths, one perhaps of the truest.

ah… speak truth and long and exhale hard into the empty hearts the softness of the night

Here.

Here.

I beg some breaths from you. I want your attention for a few minutes. Let me open my heart and my wounds for you.
There are, according to me, four kinds of suicides:

The first suicides I will discuss I will not dwell on. They are the suicides of the very young, and the very foolish. They are also a real component of our contemporary lives. The child or the fool imagines themselves at their own funeral. The absolute nature of what they do is lost to them, and they go blinded and innocent before their own bloody hands. A fool ends.
I can’t help but think as their last heart’s blood drains from their bodies, does it occur to them that they won’t be THERE when everybody is fucking sorry?
“No wait, I…” and breath shudders last. How utterly foolish and tragic. A messy comedy. Another life stolen from us.

I believe that the most common is as a result of a momentary, even if recurring, definitive madness of pain.
I think that… the despair takes us in sudden gulps and sucks the sanity from us; the frail bubble that it is bursts for a bloody but succinct, specifically human succession of moments. Twenty minutes. An hour. Long enough.
The pain… spears and punctures what we are. Our ecstasy of existence, the supremacy of our essential drive to live is swept into the wilding deep by it in savage sudden stabs. The pure violence of it, that something of this scale can even exist within us fills and covers us until that is what we ARE.
Terror is the answer, our reeling cramping minds’ answer. A devastating shudder of fear locks so many into death.
It is not the pain itself. It is that the pain may continue.
It is terror of the pain, you see. That it will not end. That this will go on. The moment cannot be prolonged, for it is untenable. It must be ended. The means are visceral, ancient and brutal.
Because, in the end, so are WE.

Continue reading

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]

I am by Drew Trotter

It has been a while since I have posted other than my feature week. Thanks to Drew Trotter, I was completely inspired this evening, thinking about life, all that is, who I am, who we are, and how expansive human beings can be. Thank you, Drew, for giving a little spark to my internal fire.

I am

I am
a myriad of lives
in protest and ecstasy
swimming through new sources and dead ends
In excited, mutable advance
I move in my multitude,
one of the many of my masses.
Not deliberate as seasons change,
but a part of this whole
whirling and convoluted cohesion
forever in flux and dissolution, an endless dance
of revelry in mystery
I move quicksilver lucid dream
born in the wake of earth’s sleep
I double helix from gapped fissure, open wound
of primal mind’s breathing being
I am what I am becoming
more austere and less made
I paint the primal, my pictures and stories,
inflections of the sublime, illuminate the void
In a masquerade of images
etched into the circular curvature
of the communal psych-
An alchemical script, a map of lore
That is the allure, an infinite unfurling
Of mystical moment timeless in space, yet rooted
in the body, blood and heart of being…..

Features for the week of January 9, 2011 (part 2)

In continuance of this weeks features, please enjoy the final six pieces of amazingly inspirational pieces.

A very inspiring piece about what happens when we let go of our inner child. Do adults really have to give up on their dreams, stop drawing doodles, stop pretending to be a princess waiting for her prince (or the prince waiting to rescue her)? I personally don’t want to grow up, but in any case I love Suzzie’s collage, even if she has grown up.

Set my Spirit Free by Suzzie

I really love this piece by miss wildwomenlove that talks about the art of giving of yourself, from a woman’s perspective. I loved how it touched on the feeling that so many of us have felt, of being overwhelmed, of having too much to give and not enough ‘get’, matched with the gentle reminder that we do have power in how things play out. It’s up to ourselves to make sure that we see the beauty and worth in ourselves, and then demand that from others. I found this a very empowering piece.


Selfish footsteps by wildwomenlove

As the Earth turns

so many women
dancing around tables
bringing offerings
of food and love
gifting of their nurture

selflessly

So many faces
smiling and laughing
biting of the apple of Eve
with no more
than a conversational pause

Faceless, armful giving
from breasts
filled with hearts
of abundance
and joy

And if never a word spoken
to fill an ear
or a heart space
with thanks
or gratitude

even well springs
can run dry…

And arms once sought
hang limply
at ones sides
in forsaken
abandonment

True selflessness
comes from a place of fullness
and self worth
where selfish footsteps have taken care
of the Goddess Spirit within

As the Earth turns

i see so many women
spent
and
so many others
satiated

Joy comes
from the gifting
and receiving
to ones self
and others

Don’t let
your mirror be faceless
your beauty
resides
in your heart

© wildwomenlove poetry
29.12.10

This poem by Alondra is a crushingly painful poem. Each word has melancholy and sadness written throughout. Even as I read the desperation in the daughters voice at the end, it left me acknowledging how liberating it must be to be at the place inside yourself where you can get these kind of memories out of your system. This piece definitely left a mark on my soul, and a longing for something I can’t put my finger on yet.


Mother. by Alondra Blick

She held me
like she wanted time to suffer.
Like she wanted
to return us both to creation.
And her skin was musty
with old boyfriends
and from new ones
whose names
I never learned.
I remember that night
at the apartment,
the night the pipes burst,
because in Canada
we have the long cold hours,
and because that was the night
Joseph never made it home
from the office.
And when it snowed,
crystalised flecks
stacked high,
I always thought of Russia,
of paper dolls
folded inside foreign skirts,
and of that night
she told me something
I can’t now recall.
She said it
when the fire burned low,
like an offering
of the flesh,
and I said Yes Mamma
Love me Mamma.

This magnificent piece of work is not only art, but also a tribute to the memory of the artists lovely daughter. I love the way she paints her so beautiful, so alive, vibrant, and happy.This is how we should all be remembered, with tenderness and grace.

Tender Regard / A Pillanat by Mariska

The artists words underneath the painting says it all to me.

Heal my scar by artsmitten

you write destinies …

your mercy is my salvation

chose stones for yourself

and placed heart in humans….
…………………….

( based on an ancient hindu mythology epic
….)

…………………………….

I would not find the burning domes and sands…
Where reigns the sun, nor dare the deadly snows
Nor seek in mountains dark the hidden lands

But where they bloom those flowers fair…….
In what air or land they grow
What words beyond the world I heard
If you would seek for know

if silent prayers are ever answered …

In just a few lines this beautiful poet reminded us how fleeting things are; life, joy, even memories. The beautiful things we experience can be like twinkles of light from a star a thousand lifetimes away.. leaving us wondering if we really ever saw it in the first place.


quivering sunlight from the belly by Kristin Reynolds

There is a risk
when the music comes,
of becoming

as lost as a moment seen
within
the heart of the eyes.

The divine discovery
of this seeing:

nothing this beautiful can be held.

That the whole of the world
you have kissed
in a moment

to be

beautifully
perfectly

gone.

© Kristin Reynolds 1 9 2011

Congratulations to all the writers and artists that grace the pages of this blog. Happy New Year to everyone, and looking forward to making 2011 even brighter, more inspirational, and uplifting to us all.

Features for the week of January 9, 2011 (part 1)

This weeks features were quite an emotional journey for me. I have been quite disconnected from my blog and art for the last few months due to going back into the secular world. It was such a thrill to anchor myself down and grow some roots back into the places my soul feels most comfortable. Having gone through the end of a year (contemplative moments) and starting a new year (getting my goal-face on) I’ve had so much to think about within my own self. I was really attracted to pieces that, in one way or another, were little nuggets of self-healing. The journey crosses many faces; acceptance of what is.. living in the moment.. finding your wings… letting go.. finding something deep inside yourself.

Because of the beauty of these pieces, I decided to split the features up into two blogs this week to allow them more personal attention than they may receive as one big post. I hope that you, like me, enjoy and feel more at peace once you behold these treasures.

Pairing an intimate portrait of a passionate moment with numbness one can feel from layers of pain is not an easy task. Yet greeneyedlady did it so well she I felt the stab of her pen on my insides, and left me feeling a bit intoxicated from the rush of emotion coupled with the flavor of the wine she left on my tongue.

your touch and the wine, my love by greeneyedlady

there is not enough wine, my love
to help me forget all that we have done
you said, get on top of me
and i always do as you say
you said, move a little bit, that’s it
slide your hips this way
you said, now tell me what you feel
and as you flesh me out from the inside
i would acquiesce to your demand
but the fucking numbness always gets in my way
you demand words
and an unintentional moan is all i can utter
words require comprehension
and your touch and the wine, my love
have taken all the words away

Tracey’s dreamy soul rushed over me in drips of blueness and whimsy. I was swept up like a spanish butterfly in the romance of it all. This piece has yummy all over it. It reminded me that it’s so good to be a dreamy girl that still believes in a fairy tale love.

Just the sweetest daydream… by Tracey Mac

This piece of work is full symbols of energy, emotions, and life. Every detail is perfection; the more I look at it the more goodies I find. Originally it was the color scheme that drew me to it, but once I saw the hidden elements, the way they all flowed together into one living moment, that is when I was able to appreciate in fullness the beauty of his message.

All is the Whole by Wojtek Kowalski

This melodic piece starts off asking some very important questions about human emotions. I loved the way the piece flowed forward like a gentle river to a poignant end. There is nothing like the feeling of letting go of negative feelings that we harbor inside of us, and SFlora did a brilliant job recreating that in true poetry fashion.

Leting go by SFlora

The ‘reason’ of feeling?
The ‘logic’ of the heart?
Boiling blood, shivering screams
And shouts,
What on earth is all this about?
Perhaps, the flowering of feeling
Through harmonies of the heart
From the minds cell of dark
Birth bursts of light
At the eve of dawn
The song of the birds give flight
To the hearts eyes.
But at the eve of the river
My joints begin to tremble and quiver
Moving against the beat
To force the slow
Resting its pull,
Its current and flow
Hovering at the humming edge
In the fear of letting go, of it all
Scrambling through a belly of invisible shawls
Gasping to free fall

KarenSue is the kind of writer that I get addicted to. I can never read enough of her beautiful scribblings. This piece I found to be very pertinent and evocative and something that many have found relative. What an intriguing way to write about the complications with our own self.

Woman without a face by ArcadiaTempest

Woman without a face
You follow me
I smell the urgency of you
Rancor in the wind

Selfish footprints dripping from your feet
You pester me
I brushed against your rash welted with your wanting
Eyes burning into the backs of the leaving

This world forgets you as often as it should
Perfuming the pavements sullied with your scent
Woman without a face nursing your crushed mirror

Faceless one I see your invisibility
Women without a face conversation
Take these words and draw yourself expression
Beautiful in being nothing like anyone

Oh the power of healing. The moments where we can release and let go the negative things that pull us down are like magical moments of flight. Such peace can be found, like breathing for the first time. This piece made me yearn for one of those moments again, and brought me back to practicing meditation as a way to let my soul fly again. Thank you for that, Lisa.

Released… by LisaMM

This is only half of the journey I took this week. Please come back for the second half of this weeks features later in the week. In the meantime, be with peace and love.

Pj Djennel, aka ShadowDancer

Touched by Fire features (week of December 26, 2010)

Hello, dear friends. So… it’s time for 2010’s last features. Please enjoy this assorted bits of passion from our Touched By Fire artists and writers. May you cherish all within your life, this and every other night of the year.

My best to you, Duffboy

 

Iceman by Gabriel Forgottenangel

 

Vision by LisaMM

 

[couldesac II] by Bande I part

 

Light by Rishani Sittampalam

 

Miami by Isa Rodriguez

 

catch the wind by vampvamp

 

Culture Shock by lovelyrita

I will never be like you
With your beer bottle in hand
Your hair a parachute, land
on the floor, big feet small shoes.

You wave your Budweiser high
in the air where all can see.
You’re buzzed and you’re a beauty
still – your hands reach for the sky

And I watch you raise the roof
From my lonely letter seat
Wearing shoes to match my feet
I’ll look for lingering proof

That the lettuce you’re eating
tastes like the leaves on my dish
Despite my desperate wish
for flavor’s visit’s fleeting

In each fork and dress and square –
And even your figure-eights
Dry like wine you pour like greats
I add salt and pepper there

You’re a doll and I’m a wolf
Village moppet, discount rate.
Pour another, stand up straight
The camera’s on you.

 

through the vines by robin ellen lucas

through the vines
connecting my blood to infinity
i move so that i can water
your roots.
they reach out to me so…
each with its own strength, its own sound
its own breath, its own life
yet moving together as one.

i find you
where you are raw
not dark
but vulnerable
needing to be held
to feel safe
my breath, my attention
to your every need
your every call for touch
to be an open room
for you to pour your soul into.
you ask that of me
and i hear you.

your warmth has the power to soothe
and pierce me
to puncture the balloon
where i keep my secrets
can you feel it now?
as a bit seeps out
released in the air, to the open
to find its way
no longer trapped, no longer secret.

a veil between you and me
its thin yet it covers
that which we need to protect
until time opens its wings for our flight.

r.e.l. 4/7/10

[ as also posted on my blog … entitled, through the vines ]

 

DO IT, IT’S CHRISTMAS by HamperRefuser

I would love to stay
But
Apparently I am leaving
Not
Through choice
I
Do not control
My
Own being
For
I
Have
People to do that for me
In
This stilted way
How
Could
I
Think
In
This
World of confusion
Fuse on
The means of giving
Buy into it
It is
Christmas
A great
Excuse
For
Armed robbery
And taking someone’s
Soul
That they trapped
In
Commercialism
And
Consumerism
What I take is worthless in
Truth
As it is unessential
To cling onto
That
Idiot box
Think for yourself
And
Be there
For
One
Other
In spirit
Not
For
Financial
Purpose
Merry Christmas
Blinded buyers
Of my
Product
I
Am
Pleased
It is
Always
Coca Cola
Is Santa’s
Suit
Green
Not
Red?

Oops
I screwed you idiots
Over
And over
Again.

 

Rape by ShadowDancer

A smile appears on your face
as you pillage her body and
discard her soul;
as if you told a timid joke
that she could hear
but not understand.

Pain gushes inside of her,
rushing forth like blood
from a morbid wound;
it’s a knife that twists her heart
into a tangled pile of hate.

She is now
but a small scar on the world.
She would rather enter the throne of Hades
than relive that fate-less moment,
for it has reduced her to a painful fear
that she is unable to ignore;
a fear that causes
her to live in a frozen world,
one where she watches
others moving forward
yet she herself no longer knows
how to move on.

You touched her for your own sick joy,
to fulfill some twisted fantasy,
while removing her ability to feel.
You never thought of love or trust,
of the way a woman dreams for it to be.
This is why you are not a man,
you are a serpent, cold, calculating,
and always searching for your next prey,
shedding your skin in between
as if you could so easily discard
the terrible things you do.

She will survive your
probing fingers
and your coy smile possessing no shame.
But you- you have the blood
of her free soul on your hands,
a part of her soul that will forever be pillaged.
This is a mark that will never fade,
even when you change your skin
and smile at the next pray
with your forked tongue
and slithery heart.

Go ahead,
pray for your own soul, bastard,
be assured that no one else will ask
for God to give you mercy,
the mercy you never thought to give to her.

 

Flowers for Kathleen – In Memory of Kat (journal entry) by lilynoelle

A beautiful artist and writer has left us. In memory of her, I would like to start the “Flowers For Kathleen” project: submit a photo, painting, or poem revolving around a flower. Title it “A Flower For Kat” or “Flowers For Kathleen,” etc. If we can come together and do this, it will be a beautiful reminder of our commitment as artists to stick together, and – more importantly – a good memorial for a woman who only lived 23 years.

Here is a link to one of her lovely poems: http://www.redbubble.com/people/katcollins
And here is a link to a beautiful artwork: http://www.redbubble.com/people/katcollins/art/5685684-1-dreaming-about-tomorrow

Peace

Lily

 

Car Wreck by kashmirecho

We were in a car. You were driving, an odd thing because you never drove. I was always the driver. But for some reason you had to pick me up in my car. You were driving my car. I was the passenger. We were driving on the interstate, driving at interstate speeds. We were talking. I don’t remember exactly what about. But you turned and looked at me, with this look on your face. I knew in that instant there was no stopping you. You looked back at the road and yanked the wheel to the left directing us into the median. No stopping us now. I don’t think I even had a seat belt on. I lunged at you and held onto your waist for all dear life. I held on. I held on. I closed my eyes and held on. We crashed. The car crashed. Other cars crashed. There was smashing and grinding and metal scraping. It was a car wreck on the interstate. You caused it and I couldn’t deny it, there was evidence everywhere. But I did not let go of you. I held on. I held on to you because you are all I needed and you needed me worse.