Now ready to dry

Now ready to dry
27 December 2021
Courtesy biller.com
Cascading thoughts fly
Riveting performances
meet my starry eye

Fireworks reveal
a universe in a sigh
that slow flows me by

A peal of laughter (Appeal)
a sacrifice to the stars
in quest of the hours (Inquest)

Urgencies dissolved
natural phenomenon
unwinding my veils

Pray reach out to me
your hands token of despair
stroking sad my hair

Observe me throughout
I am a bunch of flowers
now ready to dry

Reading of the poem: 
River of Blue – Diane Arkenstone

Heads covered in fuzz

Heads covered in fuzz
18 September 2021

Courtesy pinterest.com
The down on her lips
bristled at the sight of them
they coloured street lights

Her peach lips curled up
her face mask of amazement
her blushing cheeks taut

Her muscles strained locked
moving into position
her body knelt down

Every fiber lit
she tore through blooming flowers
fresh grass met her feet

She watched them fearful
her cheeks aflush from the run
her hair in cascades

They reached out to her
features glowing in the dark
heads covered in fuzz

Reading of the poem:


Ed Sheeran - Bad Habits
Written in the context of Ronovan writes weekly haiku challenge using the words “peach”, “fuzz” or their synonyms. More on the rules and other poets’ contribution here 
https://ronovanwrites.com/2021/09/13/ronovan-writes-weekly-haiku-poetry-prompt-challenge-375-peach-and-fuzz/ 

Burning within breath

Burning within breath

10 April 2020

Courtesy Christian Schloe

 

The city sprawls

Its engines now spent

Loose hurdles

Blood curdles

Thoughts of morrows’ place to rent

The kites within chest

 

The flurry

Birds within the skies

Welcoming

Springtime gait

Treetops where the flowers wait

The fall in summer

 

Take a chance

Open the chimneys

The dust piled

Cleansed with broom

Learn to spell the miracles

Burning within breath

 

Reading of the poem:

London London – Cibelle

Do you hear me now ?

Do you hear me now ?

24 June 2018

Hear me Christian Schloe
Courtesy Christian Schloe

 

Wasted memories

Withered jasmine flowers cast

A pathway to home

 

Lilies in the pond

Roots swaying under water

Beckoning to stems

 

Yesterday’s trials

Reaching the otherworldly

Luminescent talks

 

Edge of sanity

Hovering in between worlds

Seeing the unseen

 

Ghost whispers in me

Beseeching wandering thoughts

A silent prayer

 

Sheltered happenings

Breathing into the ether

Do you hear me now ?

 

Reading of the poem: 

Adiyogi: The Source of Yoga – Original Music Video ft. Kailash Kher & Prasoon Joshi

The truth of heartstrings

The truth of heartstrings

22 October 2017

heartstrings Catrin Welz Stein
Courtesy Catrin Welz Stein

 

Tell me tale

As I will inhale

Pollen struck

Flower pots

Loose scent of forget-me-nots

Unraveling slow

 

Wade with me

In murky rivers

Three bereft

Cleanliness

A phantom while corpses left

On pyres alit

 

Shower me

Blue meteorites

Corpuscules

Caving in

In sync with the whisperings

The truth of heartstrings

 

Reading of the poem: 

Of Life and Love – Rumi poetry

Into heaven’s frame

Into heaven’s frame

10 October 2017

ophelia illusion scene360 com dorota-gorecka-01
Courtesy dorota Gorecka on scene360.com

 

Water lilies float

Bed in no need for pillow

Yellow gold in pink

 

Leaves intertwined lay

Upon a still pond’s surface

Like sheen of my heart

 

The water whispers

To leaves and lilies molded

Into heaven’s frame

 

Reading of the poem: 

Written in the context of Ronovan writes weekly haiku challenge with words Heart and Need. Instructions/rules here

Raag Darbari flute by Ronu Majumdar

Seventh aquarelle : Cherry blossom tree branch

Seventh aquarelle : Cherry blossom tree branch

24 August 2017

 

I am back to my initial challenge of 10 aquarelles and have taken as subject a cherry blossom branch given the recent synchronicity on cherry trees. This time I combined alla prima type of painting with wet on dry painting.

 

It occurred to me that just looking at pink made me cheerful. Perhaps that is where the French saying « voir le monde avec des lunettes roses » (meaning looking at the world with rose-coloured glasses) comes from  🙂

 

I hope you will enjoy the painting and the typical song I thought would accompany it well.

 

Cherry Blossom branch

Sakura – Japanese folk music

Fifth aquarelle and sketch

Fifth aquarelle and sketch

15 August 2017

fleurs rouges

This is my fifth aquarelle which has proven to be very ill-assorted to the alla prima technique as the paper was not behaving in the expected way. Upon testing all possibilities I realised I had painted on the wrong side of the paper. I was, however, too lazy to begin again the aquarelle on the other side so continued as it was.

 

The result is a very dry looking composition of flower. I hope you will not be too harsh in your judgement.

 

Meanwhile I also decided to take back sketching as a hobby and have produced this sketch. I find its not so bad considering I am self taught and this is done after several years of not drawing anything. I hope you like it.

 

Old man 1

Poem of the atoms – Armand Amar

Chalk drawing of flower

Chalk drawing of flower

15 August 2017

 

This is a new trial in chalk of a flower. I am not sure which flower it is. I initially thought azalea but am not doubting it. Unfortunately there was nothing on the name when I saw the image.

 

I have used smudging as well as direct chalk application. The medium I drew upon is coloured plain brown sheet. My guess is that this would have been better on a lighter colour of the same type of sheet.

 

I hope you like it nevertheless

Azalea 2

Anni Rose – Tulku

Phoenix Flying 15: On the nature of duality

Phoenix Flying 15: On the nature of duality

7 July 2017

duality closer to the ennemy inside of me chelsie blanc
Courtesy Chelsie Blanc

Mama Jain felt a momentary rush of repulsion and excitement go through her frame as she felt the smooth coldness of the touch of the preternatural being she was touching and that she knew intuitively was actually her. She pondered upon the fact that every new discovery, even of what the mind tricked into believing it was new while it was old, always seemed to lead to a brief intermingling of two antagonistic impulsions within one’s being, each of them inspired by a diametrically opposed set of emotions. While reflecting on this and slowly relaxing against the coldness of the palm in front of her, she could feel it subtly warm against her own outstretched palm and she could feel the tingling of the nerves in the palm facing her while she slowly felt herself travelling up a chain of constricted vessels that seemed to be a bloodstream. On she journeyed, into the red that swayed up until the end of the upward waterfall where she could see a throbbing blue red door suspended between streaks of light that glistened with crystalline dewdrops.

As Mama Jain had journeyed through the channels that sometimes dilated and sometimes constricted but always in a winding motion whether round or squared, she then fully realised that the solution to the age-old squared circle problem was by essence multidimensional, a quantum concept like the flowing of time was in reality, a chaos model in the multiverse. Like it was the case of the feeling of being constricted or dilated, the commanding of the passage from one to another a simple matter of perspective, of vantage point, inner, outer.

Mama Jain felt herself come to a halt just at the brink of the door which she realised was actually her own heart that kept beating and throbbing pouring out red and blue depending on which side the flow had made her drift. She swirled in the pools of red and blue at the measure of the heartbeats and could feel herself slowly overcome by a great feeling of peace that pervaded her every atom. She realised deeply that the Theory of Everything was indeed Love. It was not necessarily the concept of romantic love although that too played a very important part in the composition of the energetic field that she knew propelled and sucked everything as she had experienced it during her journeys outwards. She saw further that the Theory of Everything was the unifying frequency that built upon the weightless measure of things when they were all vibrating together causing all of them to have the same scale when looked at from an observation point where they could all be viewed as one-dimensional despite them being multi-dimensional.

Mama Jain could see in the shadows cast by the crystalline drops at the top of the red blue door a myriad of shades of purple that were differentiated by the quantity of light that fell upon them. It then occurred to her that if there were no shadows, then one could not actually perceive the light as there would be nothing to contrast it and differentiate it, therefore giving a meaning to its existence. Mama Jain realised that in some way, the light owed its existence to the darkness and the other way around so one could not exist without the presence of the other. Mama Jain could feel her being fill with the understanding that all things were one thing and its opposite at the same time and what was perceived depended merely on the vantage point with the unifying perspective being the unifying frequency of love that beat in the heart of all things Earth-bound, stellar or interstellar. She had felt intuitively that when she journeyed outwards to far away lands the frequency that unified her with her external circumstances caused her to dilate to a size commensurate to the interaction required with the beings existing outside of her. It was all truly a matter of scalability which was carefully measured and reshaped according to the unifying frequency of Love.

While the fact that a being could be one thing and its opposite at the same time could seem irreconcilable, Mama Jain realised that it was very akin to what happened during her meditation as her mind danced with the stars while her body was still on the ground and her heart pulsated within the center of the multiverse for she was etheric, dilated and immense among the stars but at the same time finite, physical and limited within her frame on Earth. It was during the peak of those moments of total synchronicity, when her heart and mind had reached the point of resonance where both beings could exist and be one at the same time that she could connect to grid of all things through the heartpath and bend all matter and lack of it thereof into new forms of being.

Mama Jain surmised that for the new forms to be seen, one must see them through the heart, the new eye of the mind which allowed the retina to see what she knew was the quantum world through a tiny lense that lead to the pathway of the breath. It occurred to her then that words, pulsating through breath caused the motion in stillness of the air within bringing forth a series of emotions in her and therefore aligning words in a certain pattern and diffusing them into the ether outside would cause motion in the stillness of the infinite air outside and cause a similar series of emotions although of a different scale altogether. Embued with that knowledge, Mama Jain set about sharing a string of words infused with a frequency translating the impulse of breath that she felt inside when joining together the words and sat back to observe the effect they would cause.

As the experiences multiplied, Mama Jain noted that while some felt a sense of exhilaration at some of the words, others only felt in them sadness and a sense of foreboding. She then realised that even words, even breath pulsating through the ether could be perceived as one thing or its opposite because they were perceived from different vantage points. Mama Jain wondered whether it was the breath and the words themselves that contained the duality or whether it was the readers with their minds that expressed that duality and she realised that it was difficult to say whether it was the one or the other. In order to check whether it was the breath, Mama Jain traveled to different points of her country first staying at the level of the sea and then driving into mountains and experimenting the effect of the frequencies intermingled with the words and the result she had was quite surprising. She realised that even within her own being, both the breath and the frequency seemed to take on a whole new meaning and a whole new set of emotions depending on whether she was at sea level or in the mountains.

Mama Jain was not sure what to do with this new finding that she had never suspected before. She wondered whether she could call upon bluebird so that they could analyse the data pertaining to several individuals and see whether there was a difference in the perception of the same thing depending on the distance from the Earth but bluebird was sitting mum and not keen on assisting her these days. She thought to herself with a chuckle that she ought to go to the moon and see if the frequency and the dynamised breath had the same effect or whether they would feel even lighter there. Meanwhile, she would have to try to find a way to go deeper into the analysis of this new finding which was that the nature of duality was embedded within every individual being and the way one thing was viewed by the same individual varied depending on the location of that individual comparatively to Earth which center sucked the individual being. Mama Jain wondered whether the way everything was viewed would keep changing depending upon the new center as defined by the location of the individual.

Looking back at her hand through which she had emerged again both from her thoughts and from the bloodstream that she had been floating through, Mama Jain waved it in a twirling motion and it was once facing her backwards and once frontwards. She thought to herself that if she were to wave infinitely fast and see it when she was out of her body like before, the hand would probably be a flower composed of infinite juxtapositions of a frontwards and backwards hand and one would not be able to say which was frontwards and which was backwards. Mama Jain thought that it would be interesting to twirl time very quickly and see whether one would randomly find oneself in the forward time or in the backward time or whether one would actually not be able to distinguish anymore which was forward and which was backward.

 

Eye of the Storm

Still waters – Maksim Mrvica