My newest adventure is underway. It has lead me to take up residency in a new blog,
Like the Feathers of an Arrow (affectionately known as LFA).

...don't open...don't throw away... is not disappearing completely (not yet),
but postings here will be limited.

Friday, July 8, 2011

4 Flickering Time & Beneath the Wings

image by Bonnie
Flickering Time

he knelt over her,
his hand still braced beneath her head.
she smiled up into his wrinkly old eyes.
as the gentle notes of a violin floated in the air
she saw him transform.
the wrinkles vanished
the grey turned dark again
and his smile spoke of kisses yet to come

she escaped into his soulful eyes
time sweeping away the pain
coursing through her well worn limbs
there she saw herself
in the light of his love
young and vibrant
beautiful and sensual
shy and intense

his loving whispers mingled
with the sound of the strings
a song of promise seeped into her
as her eyes closed
flashes of memories
flickered like an old film
of a day long ago when promises
bound their hands together
melding their hearts into one

she listened as time sang their tale
and clung to the feel of his hand
brushing her cheek lovingly
as their first kiss
dissolved
into their last



cropped just her hat...
Can you see the man kneeling?
it's strange the 'artspiration' strikes. upon viewing the images presented by Brian Miller at One Stop Poetry's Friday Poetically, i saw something that didn't seem so out of place (not when you consider the image), but it wasn't there. i'm not sure how i had missed the face of the beautiful young woman wearing the hat just left of center, but i did. all i saw was her hat...but it wasn't a hat. it was a man kneeling bent over something. when i finally saw the woman i was taken by surprise. it was already bad enough that i couldn't figure out if the woman i see on the far right with her head turn off to the side gazing at the clock is real or a figment of my imagination.

Can you see the woman?
if you think i'm crazy...you're probably right.  this wasn't the only image presented where i saw something that wasn't there.  and this time i know for certain i was seeing things.  i found the original (unmodified) image and it held nothing of what my eyes tricked me into seeing.



image by Bonnie
Beneath the Wings

can you see the child
hiding beneath the wings
of the angel
caught in an embrace
with the woman
melting into death's sweet kiss?
who is the this child
hiding beneath the wings
of an angel?
is she the essence of the woman
escaping once again into the world
or an innocent soul along for the ride?



i'm not sure what the deal is with the "death's sweet kiss."  especially when the previous writing involved a last kiss.  as for what exactly the oddity above is...i cannot say.  my intent was not to write a poem (i use that term lightly for what is scrawled above)...just to inquire if you see the child that is not really there.  (click on the image and zoom in...see if you can see the child hidden beneath the wings...it is an illusion created by the processing done to the original photo...if you can't see her...no worries...as i mentioned today i seem to be seeing things...)

Monday, July 4, 2011

6 Echos of Silence

one day
             my silence
                             will echo

it will start as a whisper
of something forgotten
as you walk into a room
and look about
for what?
you can't remember
it will nag at you
until you shake off the whisper
figuring
it will eventually come back to you

it will grow to a soft hum
of a once heard song
that lingers at the edge
of your mind
you can feel the notes clash
refusing to take form
it will tickle your senses
until you push away the hum
back
into the recesses of your mind

one day
             my silence 
                             will echo

it will build within you to a shout
that whisper
that hum
will finally take shape
into words long ago read
and you'll be drawn
to rediscover them
as you begin to search for me
the nagging whisper will return
as you find my lost words
the tickling hum will resurface
it is then
that my silence will be so profound
it will echo deep within your mind

one day
             my silence 
                             will echo

of this i have no doubt
for there is no room 
for doubt
it is not something i can afford
my words have power
meaning
passion
these are things i cannot afford to loose
they are at my very core
without them i am nothing
and so i cling to the idea 

one day
             my silence 
                             will echo




a One Stop Poetry--One Shot Wednesday offering.