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Mishelle

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I haven't noticed a Topic where we might informally share our more artistic ventures, so I thought I'd start one.  The world is influenced through the arts and creativity is a marvelous motivator.

 

Does anyone have any music, art, writing on all topic life, love, philosophy?

 

Dare to Share!

 

I will lead by example.  If it touches you, hurrah, if not, know I'll keep doing it anyway  :P

 

Our Dogwood Trail

 

Beneath a canopy of jade

I walk the path

Guided by instinct

I quack with the ducks

I watch the fawns

They watch me watching

The eagles come with their demands of flesh

I wave them away and bang my drums

Like a woodpecker I tap out my territory

I howl through the night and crow through the day

I never dream that time will pass away

 

Beneath a canopy of emerald

I walk the path

Guided by intention

I am the salmon against the current

Destiny depends on me

The bear on shore hasn’t got a chance

I swerve to the side

The fool in the Fiat will be the one today

Not the threat of a viper’s pit would stop me

Mastery morphs into flow

The muse comes and goes and comes again

But the story never ends

 

Beneath a canopy of amber

I walk the path

Guided by knowledge

I still burn the hours in quest with the ferocity of a lioness

I gracefully hold the jackals at bay

Having learned to surf the current like a butterfly

I feel the air shift as the breeze sweeps from the North

The pine needles crushed beneath my feet

A jay bolts down and startles me

He screeches and when I look back cross-eyed and yell “I do not understand!”

he only screeches again and flies away

 

Beneath a canopy of blue

I walk the path

Guided by faith

I confront the turkeys with hardly a squawk

My mere presence sends them scattering

I laugh as they squabble together

Circling then in their warrior’s dance I laugh again

If only they could see the sky like I

If only they could follow the forms of light that skip between the clouds

Like glitter spinning through space and time

Particles of fairies or ghosts or cosmic dust

Do they also watch me watching?

 

Beneath a canopy of white

I walk the path

Guided by wisdom

The turkeys have established their pecking order

The ducks shake under the fountain

The fawns graze absentmindedly right in front of me

But the dogs then bark and scare them away

I don’t mind though

We will live to see one more day

Before the light fades and the sky turns gray

The stars come out and call me near

The chirping of invisible life sonorously surrounds

The scent of eucalyptus drifts before the final sound

A glow pierces through the shadows and falls across my breast

And in a ray of infinite knowing

I lie down and beg the light enchant me

I pray the stars play for me the greatest mystery of all things

They merrily oblige

They sing a festive song as I pass along

No more mysteries for you now strident one

The ducks the fawns the turkeys are all gone

The wind whispers your last words in silence

To the gods our Dogwood trail moves on.

post-17303-0-80057400-1381158142_thumb.jpg

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  • 2 weeks later...

Recently someone posted about the Conspirituality movement, which I find fascinating and have been writing about in my blog without even realizing it's "a movement".  My hubby just chimed in, "Don't foget, taking a shit is also a movement." hehe

 

So, I did a general search for the art of this so-called movement.

 

Ok, so what do y'all think?  kinda catchy?! LOL

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JQx5PQ9V9v8

 

 

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If only I could dance.

 

 

 

Culture today

Disease tomorrow

Bigotry eventually

 

 

I once fell into a comma, and then I took a pause

 

I have a bunch of music here. Unfortunately a lot of songs, some of them being better are not on there due to upload capacities. I think this is probably my best song, though the mixing is pretty poor. Didn't have enough time to do real guitar for a lot of parts.

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  • 2 weeks later...

A morning of verse produced this, on love and life and evolution.  Anyone who ventures in, am so blessed by you thanks.

 

Self-Inflicted Injury

 

“Living the dream,” he said.  The day before he disappeared again.

What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

Don’t attach.  Nobody moves, nobody gets hurt.  

Just Stop!

Freeze.  Frame.  Reframe.  Refocus.  Reframe again.

 

I don’t care about legacy.  I don’t care about honesty, integrity, posterity, he said.

The good or evil of the future is lost on me. 

What do you want of me again?

A nihilist, an atheist, an amoral cunt,

or your last Christmas tree?

 

Me with you again, the recurring self-inflicted injury.

“Aren’t you a bit bipolar?” she said, directness her best-only attribute, or pursuit,

or some ill-possessed attempt to contribute.

 

Like the call of the season to shift, I beg you back in again, cage on my heart.  Keeper of my key.  

The wind soars, the beat thrills, the sweet taste erupts in me, but I hold back the fruit,

the seed crushed, but the eternal eye expansive. 

You are never really here with me.

The fall leaf both eager and apprehensive to descend from the limb.

 

A penetrating chill, as a penetrating ray, at once the last drop of hope will play--

What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

 

So we swallow the signs and pretend away. 

The passion fruit’s stem is stiff against all sway.

Bracing it all, every rise and fall, the urgent beck and call

The coming winter’s day—

 

I must hibernate again, he cries, as he licks the tears from near her eyes.

Don’t pine for me, I’m gone to you, as you to me.

Out of sight, out of mind.

 It’s not meant to hurt you love.  It’s meant to save me dear.

From my deep sea of fear.

The longest lasting pain of the seer.

 

Then he disappears again.

 

A long long time coming, but change gonna come.  Oh yes it will.

Employed again to the call of bees, just feel it.  Just say it.

 If only because, you asked for it that way.

Name it as it really is.  Cause change gonna come.  Oh yes it will.

Not real love this right.  Just another self-inflicted injury.

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gbO2_077ixs

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  • 1 month later...

Love Tower

 

Past peaceful empty space

Darkest silence reigns

Parting leaves no trace

Yet slaves’ desire stains

 

Calling ourselves free

Hooked up tied down

Rusty anchors in the sea

Far from face or town

But to listen if you could

The gently swaying breeze

Sighs through patient wood

 

In their world you reside

You are not here to hear

How mad thoughts collide

How we’re nowhere clear

Risking all just to court

Stories that cave or unfold

Fusion fantasy of a sort

Pushing pulling hot then cold

Passion plays to letting go

Urges too full to say no

 

Force forget our salted musk

As long as the wanton lust

Floats on loosely feathered dust

As pink billowed clouds at dusk 

So roll the dice deal the wrath

None will know unless they spy

If someday truth bless our path

When on lies we so rely

Players focused on the win

Grafting pleasure onto sin

 

With sweet pinch swat or bite

Meant to spur not to fight

Astride stiff flesh love spread
Twinkle the tip tongue till fed

First trickling then flowing

Swirling filling dripping

On lobes still nipping

On lips last drops sipping

On grandiose dreams gripping

 

Intending one long hot night

Opens velvet morning glory

Soft caress at sweet dawn light

Licking scented skin to carry

The slightest breath singing

In the ears familiar ringing

Electrified fingertip to toe

All we are we now know

 

In us divine connection

For what the body craves

Force no introspection

Angel’s kiss or harlot’s plea

An urgent need not to flea

Far too long without our rhyme

‘Til the next sent word or sign

Precious fleeting north wind’s hour

When I feel that you are mine

Lost in love’s tainted power

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Ode to Stef

 

Much more than learning the truth teacher brings

A sense of hope a call to patience a stern voice

Amidst laughter always springs

A mind explosion a kind touch a chance a choice

                                                                                                      

A word salad or

Mixed metaphor

Emphasizing enthusiasm

Waiting at the door

Naming the next chasm

 

Forced open the window left

Closed by the man-god disjoint

Virtue’s message far more deft

Dark shadows bow to anoint

 

Inspiring the drive to forge ahead

Claiming the need to stop

And breathe!

Insisting fear drop

Screaming

Bring truth

 Or leave!

 

                                                                                                              

Seize a surge of courage the new dance

Walk or run or crawl from the trance

Brave that slow tear

Weep or whisper clear

 

What asks he for the gifts he shares?

That the world hear his song

Christina

A coin and a caller

Consistency

The skill to tell a

Small child

Through fun

To provide a son a daughter

Every single one

The treasure of life

That knows

Isabella

 

What reason and virtue afford

 Too high for any lord

For explorers alone

Artists lovers of life  

Keepers of joy

Decipherers of Philosopher’s stone

Acquire wisdom as easily a toy

 

What’s real are the dreams that violence kills

What’s wrong are the drums that drown out wills

Those who work to destroy and enslave

Enclose and deprave

Enrage and decay

The peace that looms so far away

 

What we know still

We live for today

While shooting for tomorrow

Dive deep into that sorrow

So truth never stands at bay

 

The strength it takes

The resolve and withal

To save just say

A thousand lives a day

More or less

 It’s just a guess

It holds no sway

 

There’s a deeper message here

To the teacher I hold so dear

Yes to reason let us fold

But it’s thanks to you

I’ll stand bold.

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  • 2 months later...

I wanted to bump this lovely thread with something I wrote recently:

 

Fire
 
The shapeless wind was running through the trees,
a morning mist obscured his vision.
Rushing through he brushed against the leaves,
an echo chamber of their falling tears.
 
He can't be stopped by pillars of illusion,
for their roots of old are rotting underneath.
Behind the wind - a forest fire,
threatening to suffocate him with its heat.
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I like it so much I think it begs to be continued!

 

Thank you! Here's the second part:

 

Rain
 
The sound of crackling echoed through the woods,
a soothing lullaby of burning lumber.
The fire stretches out his limbs of flame,
trying to escape the cage of slumber.
 
Now awake, he'll swallow up the forest,
turning it to ash without a strain.
From above - a cry of thunder,
announcing the arrival of the rain.
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  • 2 weeks later...
  • 3 months later...

It's been a while since I've been here!  And I've no idea why all the "the's" are highlighted!

 

Another poem, thanks for reading, it's been too long, for me anyway :P

 

Slave’s Rising

 

With the winds the heartSinks and swellsKindness comes and goesPatience withersLike lips cracked

 

Woke fight with a startStirred from sleepFalseness cloaked as truthPatience withersLike lips cracked

 

Witnessing armor fallRighteousnessYoung mind’s vanityBlinded by potentialPatience withers

 

Arguing over empathyTraumatizedUnhealed by reasonLove’s violent wounds resistPatience. 

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I've never been one to appreciate poetry. Never paid much attention to it really. I'm more the type to want everything spelled out explicitly. But I can read between the lines and sense the emotion that the poem's words express.

 

Although it isn't a form of communication I gravitate towards, and thus have almost no skills to write, I can at least empathize with what I sense the words try to relate. But it takes much effort, and I probably will miss some of the intended meaning.

 

I'm expressing an incompetence to understand, or possibly to feel the entirety of your poem. The only thing in my experience I can relate to poetic creativity is when I'm in the thrawls of infatuation. Even then I battle to express my emotions and thoughts in rhyme, and if I can't the "poem" will not be complete or shared.

 

I'll bet this perspective arises from a left thinking brain, if I had to attribute the source of it.

 

I sense frustration with the words "patience withers", and it is related to the deep scars of love violated. The bible speaks of the virtues of love, the first in the list is patience. Do I also sense a contradiction? I guess it depends on whether you're expressing feelings about yourself or the one you're frustrated with. That's why I prefer a more explicit form of communication.

 

I hope I haven't added to your frustration. Although I'm wired with a dominant left brain it seems, it's important we try to stretch beyond our comfort zones and extend ourselves into the lives and perspectives of others.

 

Thanks for sharing your poem Mishelle :cool:

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I am so touched by your reply and your curiosity, dear RR!  Thank you so very much for reading and trying to relate and for your honesty and feedback, WOW, just WOW!  That alone is more, much more, than what is familiar to me.

 

I'm no poet, and no philosopher, except in the sense that we are all poets and philosophers!  Every line has deep meaning for me, but l do not spend enough time ensuring others might join my world-in-the-moment through the poem in order to garner the same meaning.  This is not you!  I am evolving, and the poems are more a recording of the evolution than something that I expect others to comprehend without more explanation or evaluation.  The lines come sometimes without any reasoning whatsoever, and I know they are "right" to the feeling.  I could write you 2 pages for each line, but it's my small attempt to "spare the details"  for the mood, the rhythm, the tempo, the words themselves.  Where the meaning evades you, might you appreciate the thought that went into word choice, number of syllables, alliteration, by chance?!

 

Thank you thank you thank you for reading and replying!  I am aflutter!  LOL, i don't know if that's a word that I've spelled correctly, only that you know the sentiment behind it!

 

:D :D :D

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Where the meaning evades you, might you appreciate the thought that went into word choice, number of syllables, alliteration, by chance?! Well now that I know the definition of alliteration, yes to some degree. But I've never really understood what constitutes poetry. The idea "Music of the Words" comes to mind, but it probably boils down to how my brain processes language. That's probably why I think of poetry in terms of rhymes.

 

Thank you thank you thank you for reading and replying!  I am aflutter!  LOL, i don't know if that's a word that I've spelled correctly, only that you know the sentiment behind it!

 

:D :D :D

 

Kewl! I don't see how that could be more explicit! Nice to know "I've still got it" :laugh:

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