TBF Features for the week of July 3, 2011

Hello again, friends. Hope that all of our US readers enjoyed your Fourth of July holiday festivities. Here’s our latest batch of sexy/hopeful/emotional art and writing, chosen by yours truly, Duffboy.

 

Believe in Kindness by 8upchef

Believe in the kindness of others
Believe in their intentions
Believe that there is no hidden agenda

Believe
That even now
In these days darker than others
That a person can show kindness
And then

Believe in kindness

 

My Lord Carpathian by Arcadia Tempest

Reload my arrogant heart
drink of it
if it will please you

My Carpathian Lord
I am not one of the in-tune
lacking of beat
a retracted tempo

Feast on me

Then
drift me to a figment
of imagination
when your savoring
in me is done

I will not remember
cast black eyes into me
slumber the memory of you
leave a vision of what lives amongst the hopeful

She wakes.
She remembers.
She sees in her dreaming a wayward witch who covets the fresh liver of the eye painter to bring color to her dead heart.
She screams.
They gather.
They will protect the painter of eyes.

© K S Hardy 2011

 

Contact (t-shirt) by Manana11

 

 

Pájaros Volados by dmcart

 

 

Inbox is full by msdebbie

My inbox is full
of messages I do not need.
My smile is full
of teeth which crack and bleed.

My memory is full
of words which say so much.
My outlook is full
of possibilities I dread to touch.

What should I say?
I feel empty.
What do I mean?
Nothing.

Something is missing.
I feel clammy with malcontent.
We are missing something.
My inbox is full.

 

Ryan by Jascie Epinn

I know there’s nothing I can say
to apologize for this.
And to be honest, it’s all I’ve ever wanted.
From Prom night
When a boy sang to me
such sweet words as we rubbed hips on the dance floor
“And I will never try to deny that you are my whole life
cause if you ever let me go, I would die.”
And I reveled in it
Those words were so delicate and delicious
But now, after promises having been broken
Bones and hearts and spirits past
Those words disgust me
They are empty, meaningless
Only connoted by displeasure and shame
So how dare you look me in the eye
and tell me that you love me?
It’s all so swollen with raw humanity
I don’t want them
Take them back
I don’t want to be your everything
I don’t want to be the one who is breaking your heart
I don’t want to be her
But I know there’s nothing I can say
to change your heart.

 

Goddess of the Mountains by David Mapletoft

 

 

the shape shifter by frederic levy-hadida

 

 

“Awesome” doesn’t really begin to cover it… by singerchick

If I could invent the words to capture the sunset
I’d fill a new book every night.
But even if I could create a language to do it justice,
I could never keep up with the glorious new hues God crafts nightly —
How much less could I begin to describe the breathtaking trail
Each saline drop etches from your tear ducts to my heart?

 

the radiant sun by hollyann

i have a soft heart
and as such
am easily
loved
and love

i wake up
with a radiant sun
in my mind
that fills the day
with the light
of joy
never to be darkened
by anything
or anyone

the radiant sun
of my mind
reflects
the radiant sun
of yours
and everyone
has this
buried deep
or shining
everyone
not one left out
not one alone
it just depends
on whether
it has been found
behind
distraction
behind
reaction
a peace that glows
there to behold

so look in
there it is
for you to
call upon
the radiant sun
the home of calm

 

Hat and a red rose by fotowagner

 

 

Sea of Flowers by Artof Morgaine

TBF features for the week of November 8, 2010

It’s been so long since I’ve had the opportunity to select feature works, so I’m very excited! I hope you enjoy this passionate and emotional picks.

 

Together agains the waves of life (by robinellenlucas)

we are
together
against the waves
of life…

take my hand
move forward with me
quietly
to discover…

only because i whispered it
only because i asked you

r.e.l. 10/23/10

 
Foolish girl (by Jet…)

Foolish Girl-
One sided heart.
You let it fall…

Foolish girl

 
Ange blanc by Auquier



50-Foot Barbie Has Some Questions About God by Margaret Bryant

 

Moonlit Hands by lolowe

Your hands
Resemble a leaf struck
By the moon
Veins
On a surface
Of transparent brown
Paper thin
Fragile
Shaking in the wind

 

Your Eyes by kashmirecho

I was wrong about your eyes. They are not blue. They are a golden hue- a color I’ve never seen before except maybe in a crayon box. Not a gold like 24K jewelry-a deeper color but still as bright-twinkling like a star. Glowing like war embers in a hot fire, especially when we hold each other’s gaze for more than a few seconds. The heat is in our eyes, I’m sure you can see it in mine too. I think our eyes were meant to meet.

 

ever-present by David Mowbray

 

Hello Grandpa by KLPJPhoto

 

Your Eyes by kashmirecho

was wrong about your eyes. They are not blue. They are a golden hue- a color I’ve never seen before except maybe in a crayon box. Not a gold like 24K jewelry-a deeper color but still as bright-twinkling like a star. Glowing like war embers in a hot fire, especially when we hold each other’s gaze for more than a few seconds. The heat is in our eyes, I’m sure you can see it in mine too. I think our eyes were meant to meet.

CONVOS WITH GOD THE 3:16 FILES by 8upchef

As I listen to you
Speaking through John
I am glad to have you
Sitting beside me
I have so many questions

Why did you send him
Why didn’t you come
Were you afraid
Was he afraid
Did it work

You sent you’re son
He whom you love most
Which is a better jesture
Than coming yourself
And we believe

You could not come yourself
That would be self serving
You teach us against that
We heed your warnings
And we believe

You were afraid
But not for yourself, for us
What we could self inflict
But you guided us
And we believe

Christ did fear
Not for himself
But for our deaf masses
But he made us listen
And we believe

It worked so very well
In him you sent lessons
You sent salvation
You sent your truth
And we believe

So thank you
For sitting here with me
And talking with me
For answering me
And putting me at ease

 

Orbiting Space and Coffee Rings by Kristin Reynolds

My Grandmother
hummed songs
to no-one—
to darkness,
to anyone

while circling
the rim of her coffee cup
with three crooked
middle fingers.

Half the time she would whistle—
half the time it was
just the click of her
long fingernails
seeking new orbits
from memory,
touching what she could
of earth;
holding her feet
down.

My five year old daughter
just asked her eight year old brother:
“Are you still blind?”
Just as I was about to write the next line
of this poem—
about how their Great Grandmother
was blind;
and how I figured,
that the reason she circled that coffee cup’s rim
was:
because touching anything
is better
than touching nothing.

No answer.
My daughter asks louder:
“Are you still blind?”
My son is Frankenstein armed, and grabbing
my shoulder;
I am staring in disbelief.
“Mom? Is that you?” he asks,
pretending around corners
through time.

I answer him—dumbstruck and smiling
at the way it all works, the clock guts
and genius of this whole operation—
“Yes, dear, it’s me.”

“Oh.” He answers,
then gone.

“Are you still blind!”
His sister yells
through space—through
hollow-mouthed threads

as I am circling
around the last time
I saw
my Grandmother’s face;

and how I just…

walked out
that door.

gone.

© Kristin Reynolds 11 7 2010

 

Verte Eco-Friendly by Shanina Conway

 

love and gravity 2-a tribute to Newton and Einstein by Frederic Levy-Hadida