TBF Features (sample), week of June 19, 2011

Hello, fellow art and poetry lovers. This is just a quick update to showcase some of the art and writing hand-picked on Touched by Fire by our cohost lroof:

I’ve chosen images and writings that remind me of my recent journey

 

“Taurus” from Zodiac signs series by Dorina Costras

 

playground by vampvamp

 

Have you ever??? by wildwomenlove

Tickled the cat on the belly
Gone knickerless to work
Read a whole magazine on the shop stand
Skipped lunch and gone straight for dessert?

Worn high heels washing the dishes
Leant over a fence for a rose
Danced naked in a rainstorm
Painted hot chilli red on your toes?

Taped ‘kiss me’ on your friends back
Made your own bubbles in the bath
Sung Madame Butterfly in the shower
Ordered a fake fur rug hearth?

Gone skinny dipping at midnight
Learnt a little burlesque
Tried painting a self portrait blind folded
Enjoyed a chic flic with girlfriend and Kleenex?

Guzzled Perrier watching the sunset
Dipped strawberries in chocolate and munched
Handed out smiley face cards on street corners
Acted on an impromptu hunch?

Have you ever tried tango
Or dyed your hair burgundy red
Sniffed at the musky scent of lilies
Bought silk sheets for the bed?

A little bit of naughty goes a long way
To reviving a neglected heart
Your spirit will sing in your heart space
It’s never too late to start

Have you Ever?…

©wildwomenlove poetry
16.06.11

 

A poem of Sally’s words by Blake Steele

To listen to a recording of this poem

I’m almost home now,
almost at the end of this weary road,
almost within small, welcome fences,
almost circled by curling vines and flowers
where I may lay down safely in someone’s arms
who knows my wounded, torn ways
and loves me, placing their hands tenderly
on me to sooth… until I allow the simple luxury
of slipping into old rhythms.
I’m listening to birds singing ancient songs:
homing songs, songs of wild flight.
I’m listening to the lullabies
of my own breathing,
and the whispered syllables of wind —
the wordless longing of silent love within.
For a moment, I’m a child again,
crying myself to sleep;
until someone wraps me warm in light
streaming through their gentle eyes
and I cautiously let fingers play with mine,
and touch my hair,
seizing my soul in a suspense of silence,
breathless and unknowing —
until words begin.
Your words are light:
like small fireflies in dark woods
where frightening creatures move.
Like feathers of light
they drift carelessly and somber
amidst the fearful shift of shadows.
Now I’m nesting down in two worlds,
still afraid,
yet running towards small lights,
small miracles in the dark,
your words amongst them…

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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


Features for 27th March 2011 – Psychological Landscapes

I recently launched a challenge called ‘Psychological Landscapes’, so in continuation of that theme I’ve chosen 12 artworks which depict an imaginary scene and use symbolic elements of the scenery as metaphors for an internal state or and introspective narrative. (I’ve had two feature sessions in a row now where I’ve just featured images and no writing, so next time it’s my turn I’ll make a point of focusing on written pieces!)

Possibilities by Tara Lemana
I like the serene simplicity of this piece and its dreamlike quality, while it also gives a sense of loneliness and grandeur.
Possibilities by Tara Lemana

Cold Comfort by Graeme Hindmarsh
This surreal and minimalist piece explores “isolation and alienation in the modern world” (Graeme Hindmarsh). Despite its simplicity it contains many messages and it’s the sort of piece that you could look at for a while. Interesting and original work!
Cold Comfort by Graeme Hindmarsh

My way by Jacky
This image along with its title conveys such a dramatic sense of directionality, with its use of leading lines to the vanishing point on the horizon both in the skyscape and the landscape. It’s striking in its energy, boldness and richness.
My way by Jacky

No Name by Manolya F.
This piece conveys a powerful message and seems open to various interpretations. One commentator eloquently said “We either walk into despair or into hope. From the darkend sky there appears great light and energy that seems to recharge the water. Perhaps going into it will somehow recharge us in the process. You choose.” (RoyAllenHunt)
No Name by Manolya F.

without my wings by strawberries
strawberries says that this image was inspired by Britney Spears’ song ‘Everytime’. I think it’s a beautiful song and this is a fantastic, darkly stylish interpretation of it!
without my wings by strawberries

And when the Clock stops.. by Matteo Pontonutti
“…how will they remember me?” Like a lot of Matteo Pontonutti‘s work this has a cold feeling of enormity about it, with its use of huge barren landscapes – this time exploring the stark and overwhelming fact of mortality.
And when the Clock stops.. by Matteo Pontonutti

Echoes…. by Carol Knudsen
This image was inspired by the Pink Floyd song ‘Echoes’ which starts with the lyrics “Overhead the albatross hangs motionless upon the air / And deep beneath the rolling waves / In labyrinths of coral caves / The echo of a distant tide / Comes willowing across the sand”. I love the cool melancholy in this picture. An inspired and inspiring piece.
Echoes.... by Carol Knudsen

endless solitary by vampvamp
A beautiful and poetic image, brilliant use of white space. There is something very philosophical about it…
endless solitary by vampvamp

the perplexity of L O S T by Fiery-Fire
Inspired by Salvador Dali, this surreal piece combines natural, emotive symbolism with fantastical symbolism, combining the realistic with the impossible to create a rather perplexing and intriguing image!
the perplexity of L O S T by Fiery-Fire

Cirrus by Randy Monteith
‘Cirrus clouds are cloud characterized by thin, wisplike strands, often bunched into tufts’ (says Wikipedia). I don’t know how to interpret this picture myself, but I just love its fresh, airy, bright and breezy feel.
Cirrus by Randy Monteith

Rising against…. by nanaris
This has such a feminine, earthy appeal and tells an intriguing story which can be interpreted in many ways…
Rising against.... by nanaris

Drowning in a Sea of Tears by Sandra Bauser Digital Art
I’ve had my eye on this piece for a while, waiting for an opportunity to feature it. It’s beautifully emotive and the crisp quality of the processing is sublime…
Drowning in a Sea of Tears by Sandra Bauser Digital Art

–from Rebecca Tun

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.

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. 🙂

Guest Piece- Free to love

A new benefit of winning some of our challenges is that the winner gets to choose 1 piece of work from the TBF Group to be featured on the blog, along with an explanation of how it affected them. I recently blogged about TamLocke and her winning entry for the Text & Art Challenge. Congrats to her and she is our first member to feature another artists piece – so thanks to TamLocke for choosing a really fun and inspiring Tshirt design from Vampvamp.

free to love

From TamLocke: “I pick simply because I believe we are all free to love and its very cute..”

Features 8-30-10

This week I am going with a theme of the dreamworld and the subconscious mind. We often dream to vent out our fears and stresses from our waking lives. I was looking for images that were dreamy, spiritual, and surreal; and also ones dealing with our deepest fears. Writing, especially poetry, is often dreamy and full of subconscious imagery. I tried to pick writing that dealt with two of our biggest themes in dreams, death and love. Some of the writing just sounded like a dream feels.
I will start with the image that inspired the theme:
Power of dream
Power of a Dream by LisaMM

I Give You My Flower by Linaji

I am giving you my flower,
Because I feel your seed explode
The cosmos gets lonely on Saturday.

My flower has a shameless smell that may
conjure you a dream
This dream will give you strength

Where you are I have been
The soil was rich with nitrates and oxides
But come certain times of the year
That soil turns to dust

You are left to fend for yourself
And the barren garden burns your
Eyes and nose

So come over here and let me hold your
Hand, let me just understand
And give you my flower.

Linaji 2010

Dolphin
Dolphin Dreaming by Angel Gold

The Crescent Moon by JetMannHenry
Tonight

You will lay;
Alone
on the crescent moon.

Leave yourself behind.

Tonight

I will play
vigorously
in the memory of..

Love

in the memory of…

Us

in the memory of….

You

Tonight

We will stay,
masked in the shadows
dancing on mood dust
running on crevises
sleeping alone
on the surface of..
the crescent moon. ©

Seum
Seum by vampvamp

Unfolded Down-Under by Lenny Carpet Cleaner

spring is the rising of the leaves
the thinning out of Steves

jack and jill lying on a roll
fit for the uranium pit

licking up the frost off the clit of now
the hills are alive with the likes of you

beyond the outsiders, momentary gods
trip the liff of thought, vanity’s fete

of course you can stay
august is really the month of may

holy spirit! blasphemed the puritan
tan 61 degrees is just a PhD

oh, it’s a long way to the prawn shop
if you beget to sell Johann’s Seoul

dude looks like a lady
but(t) the lady is a tramp
tom thumb waits, I just can’t

a tragicomedy reversed
the cacophony of
well meant rehearsals, a-ha!

“time for elevenses?”
the buck stops here.

steel breast
Steel Breast Light Arms by Rosa Cobos

When Nothing Is A Good Thing by Sandy Sutton

They tell me that
having nothing is
good for the soul
being nothing is different
the art of having nothing is
refreshing
replenishing
it makes you realise
who you are
when you may
count yourself
as possessions
and a figure on paper
that is an accrued
total of your fiscal wealth
the art of having nothing is
an accrued total
of you
of your
accomplishments
of your good deeds
and your bad
it is the thing
you will carry
with you when
the end is near
when in your fear
you realise
that it’s your
vision of yourself
that matters
in the end
not your possessions
not your money
not even the love you see
in the eyes of your children
or even their children
for that matter

it is the art of you
the art of life
the paintings you create
within yourself
the sculpture
you have created
out of you
for you and only
you
the image
you have of
you
is the only you
that matters

It Is You

Judgement
Judgement by Martin Muir

Stalks
It Stalks All of Us by Berns

But to die in the joy of knowing that I pursued my dream to the end or just the beautiful beginning by Blanchot

How poor a creature he must be who in his last moment cries out,
“But if only, I had followed my heart, eschewing the cold logic of my head and the creeping ice of the compartmental crypt so soon to be?”

I refuse that being.
I refuse his cowardice and the stale scent of the pillow at his side.

Rather, I celebrate my dream: realized!
I steadfastly refuse all issue of doubt:
“Do you have any idea what you are in for?”

Fools to have even asked: for my answer can only be a celebration of the equivocal. Nonetheless an unprecedented celebration it damn will be.
“Yes, I am ‘in for’ a love sublime: a love, which most will approach only in the perfection of nature’s allowance of the summer peach’s nectar.”
“No, for I am also in for an adventure the likes of which would make a proud woman of Scheherazade herself.”

Will I make it through the thousand and one nights?
“Seek thy oracle not in this stone abode.”
Will I live every night I have to the fullest?
“You’re goddamn right!”

While the life of the mind may well appear—as it so often did to me—the apogee of human achievement; it is only through the chambers of the heart that transcendence sings its siren’s song.

Long live the heart!
Mysteries, joys, pains, and all; glorify the hymn of love and of lovers!

© 08/25/09

goddess
Goddess of Light by Scott Black

Features – 15th August 2010 – Reaching Out

This morning I was moderating all the art and writings that had come in over the past hours and I took my time over it with the view that it is my turn to do the features today. I am so glad it that I get to do the features once every month as there is always so much wonderful art and writings for me to choose from, if anything too much!

The one that inspired this feature made me think of why we do what we do and why it is so important that we do. For each poem I chose a picture that for me encapsulated the spirit of the writing.

Cosimopiro, you inspired this week’s features with your most wonderful poem. 🙂

THE ECHO OF EMPTINESS

I see you
gorge
on generous banquets,
python like,
swallowing whole
to gratify
a hollow unending
without
ever savouring
its many delicacies.

I watch you
quaff
aged juice
from the blood of grapes,
imbibing
intoxicating potion
into numb stupor
but
never relishing
divine nectar.

I spot you
pluck
tender, ripe fruit
craving fingers
bruising,
covetous lips
sucking soft flesh
but
only tasting
bitter seeds.

I hear you
rant
the madness
of self delusions
reverberating
in a vacuum
of unrealized dreams
without
ever listening
to the silence between.

Together we stand
gazing
into clear night sky
scanning
our destinies
across time’s hardened face
but
you only see
the darkness
betwixt the stars.

I recognize you,
restless,
eyeing me,
reflecting
my own wilderness
in waiting,
ready to spring
and capture
my final
berry of grace…….

…….and I wonder…….

is it best
to have company
in the void
or to feel lonely
in Paradise?

If I was to share
this morsel of joy
will it satiate
your wanton appetites
or
will I stand
where you are now,
an echo
skipping
in our emptiness
across the flat plains
of infinity
searching
for watering holes
to quench
our thirsty wanderings?

I see you
behind the looking glass
see me,
with your pleading eyes
and I with wary glance
pass the flesh
of my fruit
into your outstretched hand,
the seed of which
I keep safe
to plant in my heart,
to watch over it
in its dormant state
and nurture it
when it takes root
and buds,
in the hope
that it will bear
more fruit.

© Cosimopiro

… and here’s Martin’s wonderful image to go with it.

The Heart Of Everything

The Heart of Everything

© Martin Muir

This next poem touched me deeply:

The Ecstatic Air

I think about God and I see Him in my situation
this situation entangled in thorns and priceless misery,
whenever I move forward I am behind myself
living my life trying to catch up,
but I stumble and I fall in slow motion into that quagmire of grief
I am lost without you, and am lost with you,
If only I could learn how to breathe other people’s stale air,
if only I could live on the stale emotions of others,
and on their salty breaths and recycled kisses
my lovers and your lovers exhausted and torn up in the blender
of divorce and no reconciliation,
please don’t come back to me
God doesn’t murder, He gives us numbers in the womb
we are living, and we breathe, the ecstatic air,
I don’t think about yesterday, and the sand that stuck
to my toes on the beach, and the kisses you left upon my heart,
I can’t think about what broke us apart, the waves that crash,
and the imposssible task of holding onto them,
Time slipped through the cracks of my dreams,
my daughter has grown and is the teenager I once was
but I was silly then, full of naitivite dressed badly,
and hid behind a shy smile then
the illness in our souls became the signatures we signed
in our sleep and we still dream to escape to
we forge similarities to make the differences bearable,
we’ve attempted to love each other, but only end up
loving ourselves,
pretending we haven’t lived through this nauseuous nightmare before

Pretending we just met, when we’ve known each other for centuries,
we married ourselves to the lies we believe, and we can’t commit to
the memories that we lived,
I’ll write until I can find the words to paste the years we ripped to shreds
and wasted back together
I’ll dance until I spin myself useless and faint dead away,
until I can get back to the precise moment you walked away,
to the second you knew you didn’t love me
to the moments my voice sickened you,
to the time you became my jailor, and I lived the sentence
of missing you, and spent years trying to get back there to that
space I offended you, when we offended each other, and spit each
other out like chewed tobacco,
when our uses outlived us,
when God seemed to forget us,
when the angels stopped singing, and the demons descended
and the howling of our anger became the reasons we stayed
pasted to the wounds of our past, and to the expressions of our emptiness
when loneliness became the beating heart of our existences
and we wandered through hundreds of miles of wilderness
the dishevelled forest of our lust, a lost cause of animal instinct
the grave of the intimacy we lost, the priest that read us our last rites
when God couldn’t keep us alive anymore, when dying seemed better
I bit the ecstatic air like bits of glass to my tongue, like chunks of diamond
to my teeth,
breaking and chipping teeth until my gums bled the life of me away,
sometimes there isn’t a happy ending and lovers are really strangers
who got confused in the rain.

© copyrightmisfit19652009

I found the same sense of connection in this image:

Running thru the fire

Randy Montheith Running thru the fire

Randy Montheith Running thru the fire

© Randy Monteith

… and again a deep sense of connection and longing:

Sonnet To My Soulmate

Dear skin and hands and all things sweet and pure
containing legends deep within the bone,
and holding old romance in their allure
pull me in dreams of you and me alone –

Alone in white rooms, fantasized by me;
alone in orphaned gardens, saved by you;
alone in white-washed castles by the sea;
alone in meadows pale and soaked in dew.

The beauty of your life is intricate
although you may not see its rambling grace;
you’re made of candlelight and fires lit
to warm the pallid shadows on my face.

My spirit flies to you and now I’m whole,
and sweetly, gently, I embrace your soul.

© lilynoelle

… perfectly expressed here:

lovers

vampvamp lovers

vampvamp lovers

© vampvamp

… this is why we put ourselves out there:

The Prodigal Daughter

Thanks to a class offered by a
soft spoken South American professor
who preaches the gospel of creativity
I am whole again.

Seeking the power of steel beams and girders
I had tossed my Muse (my dearest friend) into the sea.
I needed muscle
not watercolor dreams leading nowhere.

I learned to weld and solder
to read blueprints and gauge distances
to hammer and sweat in the sun
until mine was as big as his.

I forgot how to cry.

Finally one day in class (for three credits)
I walked alone across the bridge that
I had built with my own two hands
and found my Muse

waiting
like an indulgent mother
for me to call her name.

Now words and colors and images
leap and dance before my eyes
and I paint golden wildflowers on my bridge
and I sing purple poems
and my tears fall freely now
because I have come home again,
transformed.

It is indeed a form of prayer.

© Maggie Vlazny

…and here this feeling of connection and being part of everything and being yourself is perfectly shown:

The Guardians

MoonSpiral The Guardians

MoonSpiral The Guardians

© MoonSpiral

… and a great sense of being part of it all and being yourself:

Whales on the cusp of everything

Upon waking, before the whale’s sleep drives in and
out of my eyes, I sit: taking in, taking out, turning off—

turning on until a smile births on my face in the shape
of a lightening dark spark—breathing and blooming

in the heart of infinity’s shadow. I am dead; and
more alive than any thing. My heart grows a mouth,

here, beneath and above the pitch of the sea—a baby
in the arms of a forgetful young mother; a whale singing

down the shipping lane sea. When my thumbs are
the only ones still breathing, I rise, a rice-paper basket,

empty, in the fist of the universe, a photo of love
in my pocket, beating with the fragrance of fruit.

© Sesheshet 8 14 2010

… and the connection continues:

after the rain has come

Ingz after the rain has come

Ingz after the rain has come

© Ingz

… ending it with a heartwrenching poem that almost made me cry:

Freeing Myself

sometimes I get soo angry
soo mad I cant even cry
holding that blade to my skin
contemplating suicide

I think of all the times
that I’ve been pushed to the break
my hands are shaking with hate
I dont know how much more I can take

I wish the world would grow silent
everyone would just go away
lifes becoming too much of a struggle
each and every fucking day

I put on my smile
I’m happy is my constant lie
when deep down I am screaming
wishing I could just die

give myself freedom and peace
its not too much to ask
but my mind is slipping
no longer in my grasp
I have too many secrets
that I just cant get past
but I smile real bright
cover it all with my mask

I’ve got alot of issues
that already weight me down
but people keep fucking with me
pushing me deeper into the ground

I dont know what to say
to make my life alright
sometimes I’m soo lonely
I cry myself to sleep at night

then there are the days
where I dont want to leave my bed
I hate it soo much
these voices in my head

I just want to end it all
the pain is to much
the emotions are spilling
I’m loosing grip on the clutch

I want to rip out of my skin
breakaway and be free
no more pain or anger
I just want to be the old me

I want to smile
I want to love life
I dont want to hate myself
I dont want to hold this knife

I’m sorry…I can’t
and you’ll always wonder why
I just needed to be freed
and now I am….goodbye.

© JaNae Boswell


… and leaving you with an image that shows all the longing and heart breaking loneliness of JaNae’s poem:

so much emotion

cerphotography so much emotion

cerphotography so much emotion

© cerphotography

I hope you enjoy this week’s features, Sybille xo

touched by fire – may 16, 2010 features

It’s that time of the month again… at least for me, a time to share this week’s features, handpicked by yours-truly (Duff). Enjoy,

I ran to the woods (t-shirt, hoodie & stickers) by vampvamp

I ran to the woods

Firemoon by BiographyofRed8

At night
The mice run away
With the tin-colour lights
And are we are back in our room
Twilight stars and comets
Scattered over the ceiling

Cuando la luna entra e ilumina el altillo (when the moon shines in and lights up the attic)

Y tu Gabriel (and you Gabriel)
Have walked the creaky floorboards
For we keep finding
Your pure white feathers
Dropped all over the floor
In cracks
And in the spaces between
The floorboards
Where we push our eyes
Through like characters
In a cartoon

I will bring down
A star kiss
For your eye-brows
For You have the most perfect geometry
Even if I am a thief
Of words
And feel the sting
Of the barb of a bumble-bee’s kill

You who is fire –within- fire burning
The orange-yellow-crisp-energy-beams
Falling in –streaks
in -patterns over my skin

As I write this
The noises of stupidity bark
Like a roosters call

And I am afraid
Of the moment
Where I let go of your hand
Like mothers fear
The first day of school.

Titiritera by dmcart

Incubus by Lisa Jewell

paralysed by a polished mantle trophy
a summoned demon crushes my joints
feeding off my amber marrow

his brimstone tipped tongue
laces scorching saliva swirls
onto my less than pure flesh

the will of Hedone
grants a silent screaming nocturnal spell
smothering my wretched loneliness

Hannah. by Willow Wyles

Mr. Testosterone by HollyGoLightly

What i thought was love,
was just a phase,
love isn’t something,
you can just erase,

though with you,
it went away quick,
finding the prestige,
behind a bad trick.

I felt like I’d fallen,
and hit the ground hard,
but now i feel I’m left,
completely unscarred.

When you were there,
i felt so very alone,
it isn’t my fault,
you’re Mr.Testosterone.

your macho side,
was always your worst,
so incredibly fake,
a terribly perverse.

You can’t show emotion,
something you’ll find you need,
so i wanted so badly,
to just see you bleed.

I know I let go,
so easily and hassle free,
but from the depths of my heart,
I’m so not sorry.

“…this heady quick world of kick-shot hearts” by Rebecca Tun

Heart Knowing by lianne

The heart has an eternal language of its own.
Though I must silence my mind to hear it,
it thinks better than my head and remembers too;
this perfect center of my self-knowing,
is an ever faithful guardian of my truth.
The heart listens, hears a voice in the silence,
attending its ear to a word no other hears.
Attending its sight to a vision no other sees,
at the farthest edge of my hermetic solitude,
the darkest shadows of the moonless nights,
my trusting heart is lighted from within
with the incandescent flame of love.
My heart knows what my logical mind
cannot begin to even contemplate,
recognizes the sublime where my eyes
see too often a world both stark and cold
or the desolate dry expanse of the desert.
Only the graceful heart can truly know
another shining soul with loving intimacy.
T’was my heart that knew you first,
a love my head could not have known,
and my heart that felt your inner beauty
pass through my very being like sunrise
through stained glass windows facing dawn.
My heart it was that named you Beloved,
Anam Cara, soul companion of my life,
my heart that takes its comfort, its very purpose
from the hopeful dreams of exquisite longing
for your heart, your body opening to mine.
This heart I offer you, my love, this mystical portal
through which we might together enter heaven’s gate;
is my simple gift of joyful, true “heart knowing”
after a graced and lifelong apprenticeship of love.

© Lianne Schneider May 2010

Roboxer by frederic levy-hadida

I cannot remove my tie by Cock a Doodle Doo

Wary of the Ides of March
Detached from my collar
Blue and starched
Fat cats stitch in time
Designer underwear
Mine is folded, clean.

Politicians, preachers changing hats
Checkered under watchful nose
Of open roads that must be closed.
Out of date yellow coats
Dusted then, handed over.
Followin’ suits can’t hide the fat
Guide dog tailors hang right back
Weeds climbing through the window still.

While I do pity any given refugee
With whom I lie
All my children swiftly black face me
Then turn away, busy dying

I cannot remove my tie.

Harbinger by Berns

blind spot by greeneyedlady

i wasn’t stupid
i wasn’t gullible
it wasn’t even my fault
she was just in my blind spot
that’s all
and i couldn’t see her coming
no shame in that
i wasn’t stupid
nor were you
you knew too well
how to manipulate me
and keep me in the dark
you blindsided me
so i wouldn’t see it coming
and you wouldn’t see me going
for love itself is blind
and so was i