Features 1/11/2010: Autumn Mood

Halloween is just past and Autumn fully upon us, and Winter is waiting around the corner. Always puts me in a funy mood. Spring and Summer seem forever away and despite the beauty of Autumn leaves I feel a little despondent and I am already yearning for the new Spring green….

So, here are my ‘moody’ features. 🙂 They include both old and new artists and I hope  you enjoy them.

I love the wide expressive sky in this and the feeling of being all small and insignifcant. Great shot and brilliant treatment.

When You're All Alone Laurie Search

When You're All Alone by © Laurie Search

What can I say? Shar is one of my favourite poets on Redbubble and for me at least her words always hit right home.

To Feel by © Autumnwind

of my dark and bruised
yellowed then gone
a black hurt
remains
an ink spot
burden

how stuck
and permanent
a drink not thirsted for

mother never told me
your touch would linger
in shooting blues
of searing desire
in breaths of brown hair
warm upon eyelashes
inviting…teasing
causing butterflies to collide

crazy breathless
spiraling heat
magnet to craving
the spark of flaming
you…
cheater…liar
greedy hunger all consuming
coveting love in poison flavors

reckless savior
heartless traitor

all those daisies
dying from
chronic Cinderella maybe’s

devour and dive
into my red sea sky
intrude upon indifference
with your naked carnal sighs

cover my eyes
blind me from dreams
lust defies

losing myself
in you ~ in me

as here I stay

to feel alive

This is one of of those images that you just have to love. There’s something so magic and otherworldly about it and it makes you smile even if the skies are grey outside…

Little Stars micmac

Little Stars by © micmac

I just love this poem by Blake, the language just makes music in my head and pictures to go with it…

HOW THE LOVE WE NEVER GOT by © Blake Steele

I remember…
winter, late, huffing, indignant
of spring-young sprouting.
Earth-leaned, robin spattered,
song drops and sparse frost
now tucked and trousered —
so sulked she roared,
ranted and rattled,
shameless and frazzled —
this dead-dropped last year.
Forgotten! drum-strummed and furious,
she late-howled in flakes
as feathered frolics spun and spurned,
wove, whistled, nested, nipped and yearned
— my breast! bird brewed —
until the sky spattered clear
amidst the spiraled soak
of her gold-grown green fear.

So winter sulked
and sighed
towards summer,
when
I,
butter-rubbed,
rumbled.

Fog is an amazing thing especially when the light shines through it. There’s something of “anything can happen” about it and this beautiful shot just captures that feeling of wonder and excitement.

Fog by Igor Zenin

Fog by © Igor Zenin

This next poem is just full of secrets and the coming of Winter (at least for me),  a mystery to make you sit and think.

Hush! by © Jet …

Hush!
Sprawled out words;
Written.
On pieces of fabric, paper and earth

Torn.

Shhhh.. Hushhh
Not One Word
There is no place here
for these such things.
Black blood filled eyes,
Full
Gathering;
Like pools threatening to spill over..

Not One Word
disgraceful heart!
Little lost girl;
Silenced
Alone
and
Torn.

Hush!

Here’s Autumn’s full glory in technicolour with it’s bright oranges and blues and stark blacks and the golden light you only ever get in Autumn. Fabulous capture.

Autumn Leaves (Les Feuilles Mortes).Memories of those happy times when we were all together. Brown Sugar Storybook. by © AndGoszcz

Autumn Leaves (Les Feuilles Mortes).Memories of those happy times when we were all together. Brown Sugar Storybook. by © AndGoszcz

Here’s a poem that reminds us that many things begin with others dying off to make space for new beginnings and to allow them the grace to grow.

beginnings by © greeneyedlady

it started with you
thank you
the day you blew holes in my world
well, i thought it was all over
until i knew
that’s when i drew
the best aspects of her
and the worst aspects of him
right down into the center of me
and created a new being
and it was strong
no longer pushed and pulled along
the beginnings of who i am today
started with you
thank you
now i can let you fade away

I have a thing about graveyards and cemetaries. There’s something so still and peaceful about them. This is a beautiful capture with the soft glow of the fog and the stark tree and architecture.

 

St. Andrew's Cemetary by Kristina Gale

St. Andrew's Cemetary by © Kristina Gale

The perfect Autumn poem… what more can I say?  It says it all…

scent of decay by © Alenka Co

crush of leaves underfoot
soft mound of brown where a tree once lay
warm, woody scent of decay
of life and death entwined

all along the mound of tree that was
life is emerging
from the crumbly mulch a man-fern sprouts
delicate fungi in clusters grow
and moss drapes elegantly over all

from the earth the tree was born
grew magnificent, reaching to the sun
birds sang in its branches
possums clambered its trunk
devils growled and chased around it
wallabies nibbled and contemplated
while womats ignored all and dug

and tree fulfilled its life
returned to earth
to live again

I always like toinclude at least one of my co-hosts, so often we’re missed out in features. This time this beautiful image and it’s fabulous title by ShadowDancer caught my eye.

would there still be stars, if men could touch them? by ShadowDancer

would there still be stars, if men could touch them? by © ShadowDancer

This final poem captured all I wanted to say with these features… Enjoy!

mood tide by © hollyann

the wave pulls out
and arcs itself
over the fine grey sand
it’s crested foam
it’s turquoise arm
set to tumble down
cascading on the open shore
leaving treasure
leaving stones
shells
green hair weed
little crabs
to sidestep out
to find the sea again

then slowly softly
on the pull back
sucking in the sand
it lapped
sucking out the
things it left
to yet again pull up
and in
birds reeling in it’s wake
and mist
the constant
curvature
of the sea
against the earth
guided by the
stages of the moon

the mood tide
fashions it’s pattern
in it’s wake
life
cries and swoons
the driftwood left
a tribute
to it’s wearing depths
and smoothing moves

Remember, all work on here can also be found on Redbubble, just click on the images or the title of the poems to be taken straight there. All work is copyrighted, please respect the artists! Any comments are welcome and make a huge difference to the artists, so please be generous with your praise.

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Features – 19/09/2010 – All mixed up

Rather than having a theme this week, I decided to just choose artwork and writings because they touched me in some way. A theme can be interesting and add to the features but sometimes it can also feel limiting because some artwork/writings are excluded because they don’t fit into the theme. So here’s my random selection.

Note: All artwork and writing is copyrighted by their respective creators. Do not copy or publish any of the art/writing on these pages in any way shape or form without the written permission of the authors/creators.

There’s something mesmerising about this image. I love the texture of the dress and the effect it has on the eye at leading us to the nest and eggs. Beautifully done. 🙂

un~PROTECTED by © jacqleen

un~PROTECTED by jacqleen

un~PROTECTED by jacqleen

I love the raw emotion and the acceptance of the truth and what is in this poem. It touches me deeply because it’s so rare that we accept what is.

It’s broken by © JetMannHenry

I want to shout it to the stars.
Scream it to the sun.
Recite it to the gods.

I am in love!

But the lumps in my throat threaten it’s beauty.
and the tears in my eyes leave me blind.

I love him!

But,

…it’s broken.
I am broken
and
I am breaking him.

I love flowers but so often images of flowers don’t seem to be more than pretty and don’t have much that touches the viewer other than the fact that it’s pretty. This image touched me because there’s something special, ethereal about it, something that leads you further and makes you wonder. Perfect!

Or So the Story Goes by © Laurie Search

Or So the Story Goes by Laurie Search

Or So the Story Goes by Laurie Search

This poem by Mia is wonderful in it’s spiritual depth and acceptance. There’s no more I can say, read for yourself! 🙂

healing by © Mia Rose

I am sitting quietly
at the altar of now
breathing deeply
cupping us
in the prayer of my hands
giving thanks
for the healing that pours
from the cool cracked moon
of my essence
opening itself
softly
gently
reverently
to welcome the holy sun
exploding its fiery force
in my being
fusing my grateful parts

I love the blues and greens in this wonderful image by vampvamp. There’s something healing and serene about it.

PH/VV by © vampvamp

PH/VV by vampvamp

PH/VV by vampvamp

This is so utterly magical and beautiful. It takes you from the first line and carries you with you all the way back. Wonderful!

libelula (verde) by © Erika

have you ever felt the green of the sea and how it feels to see it see you?

I have felt it
in your eyes:

you
feel like the green
the sunlight
escapes
between the leaves’ breath

and

you’re born in my mind

like
spring
from
autumn
skipping winter

and all I see
are verdant palaces
built from the same material
your heart is made of
leaving a trail of breath and moss –

I can almost catch your scent

dancing

whispering

through dragonfly wings
so invisibly visible
like an internal sigh

you leave your mind-print
on my own
and I’m reminded of

how close to me
you always are

even though

you move like a shadow
through the forest
you’ve built for me
to fly in

you should see
how beautifully the sun
springs off the trees
like rain from clouds

like thought from dream
into forgetfulness

when the sun rises and before it goes to sleep
leaving the stars in its wake:

for it is in the moonlight
I often carve secret myths into the tree trunks
when I awaken the whisper
that sounds like your voice

haunting
the mighty oaks

moving so swiftly

weaving in and out of the night

into my mouth

through my heart

down to the abyss

where you settle like gravity

and I

become your heartbeat

And from light to darkness… A compelling image by Randy. Something to wonder and think about…

Fury of the Fallen by © Randy Monteith

Fury of the Fallen by Randy Monteith

Fury of the Fallen by Randy Monteith

A dark poem by Anthea with an ending that leads us back to the light. Wonderful haunting words.

Melancholy by © Anthea Slade

Engulfed in the ice of melancholy,
sadness dissects my joy
into sections of discontent.

My aching heart stutters and
craves for days that are all blue
with shadows that unlock spirits acquiescence.

The unrest of sadness tortures thoughts
hi jacking emotional harmony,
spinning a fabrication of forgotten dreams.

An unrelenting grey sky sadistically
uncoils my heart, poisoning my veins
with suspicions snake called self doubt.

Blossoms burst as spring struggles to take hold,
the cold taunts each morn while shiver sinks
her angry teeth inside my goose bumped flesh,
a vampire, a red eye with black blood.

Frozen creativity rumbles disturbed
by light deprivation followed by night.
Salty tears sting itchy eyes that blur disrupted by the
knowledge that sadness is beautiful.

And if you dream it,
happiness and sunlight will come.

This is an amazing atmospheric image by Tori. It makes me wonder about the story behind it. Did they just get out of the spooky house and now look back? Are they going into the house? Beautiful and mysterious.

Faith by © Tori Yule

Faith by tori yule

Faith by tori yule

A heart wrenching story by Alenka. For a brief moment in time we share an intimate encounter. Wonderfully atmospheric.

from ‘A Shattering of Glass’ ….. by © Alenka Co

The sound of a man crying is the most frightening sound in the world. I saw my father cry once, and once the corporal.

His crying is muted, like it is being muffled under the covers, but still it chills me. The instinctive urge, as it was with my father and the corporal too, is to rush in and comfort but will he want that? Sometimes when we are reduced to tears we want to be left alone and sometimes we are crying out for someone to hold us, to comfort us and tell us everything will be all right. But for him it can never be all right.

I sit up, my knees huddled to my chest, listening to that awful keening sound. In the end I have to go.

I don’t knock. He doesn’t hear me pad barefoot to the bed. As I thought, he is under the covers, curled into a ball. I kneel on the floor and firmly place a hand where I think his shoulder must be. A slight startled flinch barely interrupts his grief’s flow. I let my whole arm come slowly down over him. How small he feels, bundled up like this.

When he doesn’t reject me I bring my other arm around him and rest my head on his heaving body. I don’t know for how long we stay like that, his breath a series of jagged sobs, his body shuddering under my head and chest. Gradually he quietens and stills and lies almost silent beneath me. Neither of us speaks. I hold him until I think by his breathing that he has finally fallen asleep.

I love the whimsy of this and the concept and thought behind this fabulous image.

What You Think on Grows by © AngiandSilas

What You Think on Grows by AngiandSilas

What You Think on Grows by AngiandSilas

There is so much strength and confidence in this poem by Rhenastarr. It’s fabulous and wonderful and seemed the perfect way to end this week’s features.

SHE by © Rhenastarr

Tattered edges of a
Shattered life became
Whispers soughing
With the wild winds of
Yesterday
Brushing the memory
Across the cracked
Heart and soul that fills
The empty vessel of
What was
Bringing home the withered
Hopes of forgotten dreams
Illusions planted deep, their
Pieces littering the barren
Fields of muted visions
Sharp edges
Torn and splintered from the
Sight of reason
Happiness and regret merge
Coating the walls of her
Being with the painful ashes
Of a fire that consumed too
Quickly and left the scars from
Flames that singed her
Helpless heart
She was swept in a tumultuous
Wash of feelings that left her
Breathless and bewildered
Would tomorrow ever bring
Her peace
Would the night ever hold
Nothing but shadows
In her heart a tiny flicker
As the flame of her being
Refused to die
She would not let
The past
Sweep her among the
Littered remains of love’s loss
Her hopes and dreams had
Been broken, battered and bruised
But she would pick up the
Pieces
She would repair her damaged
Remains
Stand before her mirror and
See victory reflected in her
Eyes
In the smile that now caressed
Her mouth
She would see before her
A woman who would survive

I hope you enjoyed this week’s features. Please check out all the artists’ pages and let them know how wonderful their writings and artwork is. 🙂