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!

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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.