Uncrypt

uncage
plant these ancient
bones give back elements
that belong to circles not lines
rekeep
let these lost bones breathe surrounded
by beds of seeds and roots
set spirits free
uncrypt

Sue Vincent’s photo prompt this week was the spooky crypt, above.  These bones would prefer a different setting, I think.

Sea Music

Kerfe’s gotten me into the Magnetic Poetry Spirit. The green and amber splotches are supposed to represent sea glass. I tried to give this a beachy feeling. 

Symbolic Attitude and Fuzzy Poets

Say hello to fuzzy poets
believing in symbols
almost never
facing smooth attitudes
make good vibes
dig the big mystery

Nina and I did a couple magnetic poems this week.  I rearranged things again for this one when I was putting it on my painting, although the words are the same, except for two that I eliminated.  She’s working on art for the other one.

For this one we used the “mustache” words for a change of pace.  It makes for a different subject matter for sure.  Above:  the entire fuzzy poets painting to go with our poem of symbolic attitude.

For Elusive Trope’s Magnetic Poetry Saturday.

Red Rain

My dreams come hued in red
emerge like falling rain
dispersing to return
in cloudbursts    relentless
the sky weeping rivers
of remorse and regret

waters drawing regret
currents edged in bloodless red
I navigate rivers
that fade behind the rain
pouring heart’s relentless
sorrow into return

Departure and return
remain refuse regret
sky weeping    relentless
torrents ablaze in red
I look for rainbowed rain
that redirects rivers

Blurring blending rivers
 and revisions return
as sanctuaries    rain
recoloring regret
blues singing behind red
blues calling    relentless

melody relentless
bless and trust the rivers
disintegrate the red
begin again    return
releasing all regret
in new unshadowed rain

in fresh untroubled rain
absolved now    relentless
bursts of flooded regret
white flash haunting rivers
to follow    to return
blues singing above red

Regret shelters in red
 of relentless return
rain dreaming in rivers

Jane Dougherty’s challenge this week included Franz Marc’s painting “In the Rain”, above, and the words
Rain, red, relentless, river, regrets
This immediately made me think of Peter Gabriel (“red rain is falling down, falling down all over me”), and both the painting and the words seemed to call for repetition.  I added the word “return” and decided to attempt a sestina.

It’s definitely still in progress.  But I think some parts work, even though every time I look at the poem I make more changes.

The artwork started out as the collage, above.  I dripped red rain, and then some blues.

  Some days definitely call for blues.

Golden Gate

From a photo by my cousin @knucklesamwick. 

the child, new

young voice singing, cries
raining smiles, spilling laughter
into the breath-held
air, opening hands
rising and shining anew

Using the Secret Keeper’s words this week:
YOUNG | RAIN | LAUGH | ROSE | HAND

Celebrating the birth of my grandnephew, the first of the next generation.

 

Angels and Dragons

Reblogging this to maybe get this blog some more followers. Some very interesting art work and thoughts on here. Hope this is okay with you, Kerfe.

teproleum

December 31, 1999. The dream was so vivid I can still recall every detail as if I’ve just watched a sci-fi/horror/action movie in HD. Although I’ve had a few other nightmares that were as vivid and scary, this one probably takes the cake.

I won’t go into too many details here though since it will probably creep people enough to have me banned or something (or at least, unfollow me). The only details I can probably give out is that it involved names I have never ever heard of prior to this dream—Zadkiel and Ouroboros*.

It also involved some premonition stuff  which still creeps me out to this day because I couple of them HAVE come true. (I’m not into mystical stuff or things like that, but this dream makes me think about it sometimes.)

Anyway, the painting above is a ‘scene’ from that dream/nightmare where after Zadkiel said to me,”I will…

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Junk Mail Art: the child, alone

Jane Dougherty’s microfiction painting inspiration this week was a child, seemingly left alone with some toys in the crib or playpen…

Selfie (a day late)

I showed this to my husband. He didn’t know who it was but I think he was just being nice. I think it really does sort of look like me. I need a haircut very badly. 

The Way Over

like so many
I step between two rivers
vanishing in to
the bisection of a cross
a sanctified stillness but

I pause here caught I
quench listening can’t reach can’t
penetrate can’t seem

to understand to
vocalize the sounds which find
knowing language my
echo is immense my way
merges under and over

When I saw Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above, this week, I immediately thought of Jimmy Cliff’s “Many Rivers to Cross”. 

And I do like a shovel poem.