Monday, June 29, 2015

Of Empty Rooms and Words



Somewhere there is a room
Where I long to write,
A private alcove
Meant mostly for words,
With walls private enough
To seal the sound
Of my dictionary-speak.
And somewhere below
The windowpanes of this room
A city undulates, a reverberation
Of footsteps and poet-talk,
A certain kind of language.
Inside this room, it’s always evening,
there’s always coffee
On the stove, familiar as old lips.
When my skin itches
For fresh air, the voice and flesh
Of an outside kind of world,
There’s a side-door verandah
With smooth wood for bare feet,
Friendly porch-bar birds
And a warm-blowing breeze,
Leaves spinning in the shape of text.
I close my eyes and write them
Across the inside of my wrist
With my mind:  a safe-keeping of sorts.


Written for a prompt at Magpie Tales.

Advice (and art-inspired) by Dr. Seuss

"Fancy That Cat"



“you find magic wherever you look. sit back and relax. all you need is a book” 



Created for the Dr. Seuss inspired challenge at Sunday Postcard Art.

Hot Colors

"Fall Me Down"

"I am the child I was,
living the life that was mine.
I am young and half asleep.
It is a time of water, a time of trees."
--Anne Sexton


Created for a the 'hot colors' challenge at Take A Word.  



Sunday, June 28, 2015

Barefoot Art and Words by Anne

"The Evening Wait"

Her Kind
(Anne Sexton)



I have gone out, a possessed witch, 
haunting the black air, braver at night; 

dreaming evil, I have done my hitch
over the plain houses, light by light: 
lonely thing, twelve-fingered, out of mind.
A woman like that is not a woman, quite.
I have been her kind.



I have found the warm caves in the woods, 
filled them with skillets, carvings, shelves, 
closets, silks, innumerable goods; 
fixed the suppers for the worms and the elves: 
whining, rearranging the disaligned.
A woman like that is misunderstood.
I have been her kind.



I have ridden in your cart, driver, 
waved my nude arms at villages going by, 
learning the last bright routes, survivor
where your flames still bite my thigh
and my ribs crack where your wheels wind.
A woman like that is not ashamed to die.
I have been her kind. 




Created for the 'barefoot' theme challenge at Digital Whisper.

Monday, June 22, 2015

Rod McKuen Poetry: Sometimes





I first discovered Rod McKuen when I found three hardback books of his poetry at a thrift shop.



I fell in love with the humanity inside his words.  I read them during a harsh winter, coffee at my right-hand, his books across my lap.



Such a lovely thing to fall into.

Wednesday, June 17, 2015

Me-Flection Day #12: Get Out of the Box



The Challenge: Create a self-portrait incorporating a box, to celebrate the ways in which you live "out of the box"!

The term ‘outside the box,’ in my opinion, means to live differently.  To be flowery, bend the rules, break them if you have to.  To pave your own way other than merely stepping into someone else’s old footsteps.  It’s about creating a life that invigorates you, a lifestyle that fits whatever unique abilities, gifts, and preferences you have.  It’s not ever allowing anyone to define you in a superficial way.  It’s being true to yourself, and living freely.

Found Poetry: The Traditional Ugly



A found poem that I put together from one of those silly, out-dated 'how to be beautiful' guides. 

Me-Flection Day #11: Be Puzzled



The Challenge: Create a self-portrait incorporating the theme of puzzles, allowing the exercise to provide insight into a particular question you're pondering.

My Question:  What can I do to figure out where and what I'm meant to be doing in life.

When it is complete, go back to the question you asked and set your timer for 10 minutes.  Answer the question, free-form, for the entire 10 minutes, and see what comes up.

The picture of the girl I created is standing beside a train track.  I think the train track could be symbolic of someone who is going somewhere, or traveling, or about to embark upon a journey.  The fact that she is barefoot makes me think that she is just wondering.  She's also looking off into the distance, which makes it appear as if she's looking for something or awaiting something.  Maybe she's eager for the train or a trip.  Another idea, she could be awaiting something/someone to arrive via the train.  The fact that she's barefoot makes me think she's a free spirit, she's eager for her feet to touch the earth.

I think my creating this picture in reflection to the question could be a message from myself to keep wondering, keep looking into the horizon in expectancy of good things to come...because through my personal voyages and the gifts of the universe, I'll eventually realize where I'm meant to be and what I'm meant to do.

Perhaps the self actualization occurs merely in the living of life.  To go do and be what I enjoy, and there I'll find my place.

Sunday, June 14, 2015

Me-Flection Day #10: Find Yourself in a Photo Finish

The picture of the lady isn't me (obviously, she's rather illustrated).  And if you actually own, or have ever taken, the Me-Flection workshop, you'll probably notice that I'm skipping around (only doing the ones I can integrate into Photoshop).



The Challenge: Discover something new about yourself as you create a self-portrait based on a photograph of yourself that you don't particularly like (as I said already, I used an image that i liked.  no rules for art, remember?)

The idea was to pause every 15 minutes and reflect upon what I might be discovering about myself as I worked.  The prompt came with the following fill-in-the-blank statements:

 "I'm discovering this about myself: I seem to favor bright colors, an eccentric sense of fashion."


"Maybe I'm discovering  that I'm a unique person.  I have an eccentric sense of fashion.  I used to hate my glasses, I would take them off for photos.  Today, I feel at home in them...I'm grateful I have means of seeing clearly."

"I could be discovering  I love literature.  Words mean a lot to me.  I'm perfectly happy inside my own little world with good literature, my imagination."


"If I were not afraid, I might discover that maybe I enjoy being alone.  I'm not as sociable as I used to be, nor as impressionable.  I'm happy inside my own skin...weird sense of fashion, dark framed glasses, books and all"

 "I discovered this about myself: I'm different and I embrace it.  I no longer view myself as an outsider, I'm merely unique.  What's even more important to me is I have reach an age of maturity where I don't care if I'm an outsider or not.  I don't long to fit in.  I don't seek validation from anyone anymore.  I feel a sense of self-liberation to be free of the expectations or the silly rules of anyone else.  There's a lot of things I'll never be, and most of those things come with boxes I don't fit inside.  Boxes and lifestyles I don't want to fit inside.  I'm happy and  content with who I am, and I feel I'm steadily gravitating toward who I'm meant to be.."

Saturday, June 13, 2015

The City Pavement is a Heavy Thing



She's not sure
who she is,
or where she's been.
Only that she longs
to go back again.
She imagines her life,
a steady series of shoulds,
a pig-tailed girl
with the world at her hands,
now she's just
a could have been.

The days are tired,
the nights as long
as a certain kind
of midnight and she's
longing for sunshine.
Too many empty steps
of a street-side apartment
bend her knees out of shape,
the same knees that used
to fancy herself lucky
to dance naked,

something special, exquisite
retail for the wealthy
men of 5th avenue,
while their stiff
stock-holding wives
lived the safe luxury
of penthouses and
the crisp, boring lives
of those fancy
high-rise condos.

Now she just wishes
she could have
been one of them.


written for a prompt at Pink.Girl.Ink. Press.  

Thursday, June 4, 2015

Magnetic Poetry: "The Twelve O'Clock Thrill"



created with the online poetry magnet kit.  i chose the mustache poet option (mostly out of curiosity, really)...which really limited my words in a sexual, risque kind of way.  i didn't initially mean to write a poem like...this.  but i used the words it gave and here we are!  

I actually own the 'real' one, but it's so time consuming and such a mess, this is much easier!

Tegan And Sara - Nineteen





"I felt you in my legs before I ever met you, and when I lay beside you for the first time, I told you:  I feel you in my heart, I don't even know you...  


I felt you in my life before I ever thought to, I feel the need to lay down beside you and tell you:  I feel you in my heart, I don't even know you..."


(Oh heart, be still!)

Wednesday, June 3, 2015

The Back-Porch Blues



The moon
Lights the sky
A half-frosted
Chocolate cake.
Wicker against
Bare shins,
Bone against brick.
I sat poised
with notebook,
work the slippery
print of gel pen
into a flurry
of fuzzy firefly,
blood-drop
of mosquito.
I want most
To commemorate
Something,
Become something
Outside myself
For a while
But tonight
The java has
Turned my brain
Into skittish text,
Uncomprehensible.
The cars spin
Across the highway,
bright-eyed and
soft moth-winged,
Voiceless and noisy.
I am hungry
For wine and pretzels,
For soft hands
And strawberry lotion,
for classic music,
someone else's
face to fall into.

Right now
There’s only me
And the quiet sounds
Unseen things
Alive in the grass,
Unsaid words
Thrown across
The porch like
Friendless widows
And my candles
Are burning into
A spiderweb mass
Of melted wax.
I need to sleep,
I need to keep
Reading about the
Magic lives of
Girls in the
Chick lit novels.
I need to spin
The wheels of thread
For my daughter's dress,
The oven clock
Is ticking like
A death perch
Across the upcoming
Day and all I really
Want right now
Is to turn
this piece of town
Into a train-station,
A parkway,
A piece of sky
With too many
Hanging moons
To ever count,
To be in the vast,
Sparkling, timeless
Innuendo of too
Many disappearing
Pieces of starlight
To ever again feel
Such a thing
As 2am loneliness,
The sun rising
Across sleepless eyes,
Biscuits burning,
The surprise of
Someone else leaving,
Taillights fading
Into the dark
On a night
Not unlike this one.


written for a prompt at dVerse.