Summoning her Frame

Summoning her Frame

1 September 2017

ET woman
ET woman; 8th aquarelle of aquarelle challenge

 

Wonderland

Place of Miracles

Where we pray

Where we stray

Spending light through sun’s array

Countenance at bay

 

Seething sand

Makes me obstacles

Which I grind

In my mind

Through memories I unwind

Past hidden unkind

 

Singing band

Grant me spectacles

Unknown fame

Face no name

Shimmering through light path tame

Summoning her frame

 

Reading of the poem: 

Flying Elephants (part 1) – Gregory Colbert

Flying Elephants (part 2) – Gregory Colbert

Ashes and Snow – Gregory Colbert

The restless hornets

The restless hornets

30 November 2016

 

hornets-return-of-kings-com
Courtesy pinterest.com

 

The wavering tides

Gather on uneven shores

Of sand the dune stores

 

We count the seconds

Instilled in time-riddled grains

The waves a backdrop

 

No time a full stop

Washing over and over

The frothing horses

 

Fusion confusion

I walk within Time’s bubbles

In between the worlds

 

The summers spent hay

Burning memories now doused

In half-light of cloud

 

I remember day

When the night was clear in sun

When candles rewound

 

Ticking chronicles

Fallen happenings rebound

Broken jar upright

 

The splinters ride past

Whirlwinds summon the keepers

The day’s grim reapers

 

The restless hornets

They pick on the flesh exposed

Disclosure in Twelve

 

Reading of the poem: 

hornets-pinterest-com
Courtesy pinterest.com

Path 19 (yet frailest) – Max Richter & Ben Russell

Tout s’efface – Patrick Bruel

Dream 13 (minus even) – Max Richter

The Watcher

The Watcher

1 October 2016

watcher filmint nu.jpg
Courtesy filmint.nu

 

Singled out

Phrases from the book

Of shadows

Seeping through

Sand of the desert landscapes

Plaintive muted tapes

 

Sorrows pour

Drink of the numbness

The duress

Concentrate

Dilution mindset of Hope

Renewed way to cope

 

We bear hurt

Anguish a blemish

The Watcher

Dissolves slow

Restoration lifetime’s Art

Renewing the glow

 

Reading of the poem: 

watcher-deviantart-com
Courtesy deviantart.com

Summoning of the Muse – Dead Can Dance

 

The grass was greener

The grass was greener

20 August 2016

crimsonfields deviantart com liberty_by_tryskell-d99kjln
Courtesy tryskell-d99kjln on deviantart.com

 

She looked across the battered fields lying scorched by the heat around her frame in veils. From afar came its glint, shining eerily under the summer sun. So infused with more than just a hint of light she felt she should run towards it for it looked so beautifully green, it was almost lime-like in its iridescent sheen. She imagined the dewdrops painting life-like shadows alongside the blades of grass, twirling with these latter in those meadows a long-forgotten dance. She could almost sense the hum of the grasshoppers, the sound of brass invading her mind with their invitation to prance.

 

An arm brushing past hers tore her thoughts away from that beautiful island and its mighty sway. The field around her was buzzing in glee with grey-faced workers in neat rows of three attempting so desperately to instill some life back into the withered plants going downhill. The water ran from their giant cans dark, muddy and lifeless, not even a spark. She watched them smother rather than water the field as more sand and dirt was all the cans would yield. Here and there some poppies had survived, their wild nature breaking free revived by the view of the skies from the murky lands ties.

 

It was the bluebells that withered the most. Their head hung, their face downcast, they looked like this time they would never last. The secular trees of themselves a ghost looked over the horizons, a sight only they could boast and realised that perhaps this was the last year they would play host to the hundreds of bluebirds that on their branches found outpost to watch the first sunrise. Suddenly a ray split the skies and onward came rains of the most frightful might. To the field workers they were though the most beautiful sight as they gathered out of ranks not bothering how offering to the rain their weather-beaten brow as it washed away the mud. The oldest of trees came down with a thud and as the land under it drank the rain a damp and soon mossy stance took over its grounds again and again and again.

 

She looked across the reddened field to the brink of where her sight would yield. She looked back to the moss growing on that new land. Its glint was known to her not a new brand. Both far and near she could see it so clear.

 

The grass was greener.

 

Reading of the short story: 

greener deviantart com 4
Courtesy deviantart.com

Green…The Colour of Evolution – Yakuro

 

Unwinding all Time

Unwinding all Time

14 June 2016

void highreshdwallpapers com
Courtesy highreshdwallpapers.com

 

The wind blows

On sands of the mind

Stripping bare

Ideas

Like wrecked car that truck tows

A recovery

 

Winding path

It leads to the source

Of all thought

Inner frame

Coil to all what we forgot

The discovery

 

Do you hear

The voices beckon

Other side

Welcomes air

As the wind hollows the wall

In between phases

 

In dreamtime

We travel places

Where we see

All that is

Today in tomorrow’s past

The events that last

 

Beyond Light

There is a darkness

That unfolds

Million leaves

The space tapestry it weaves

Fractal threads twirling

 

Splitting space

The guiding ridges

They join weave

The cuttings

Loosened ends that minds deceive

On isolation

 

In the Heart

Shudder throbbing walls

Inner blue

Outer red

In between a thin parchment

Of opposed syntax

 

The truth lies

In the middle way

Where souls twirl

To fading moon

Where the sage and the fool swoon

In ecstatic trance

 

Whirl with me

Through the bleak sandstorms

We will reach

Beyond norms

Where everything is nothing

Unwinding all Time

 

Reading of the poem: 

whirlpool messier 106 csmonitor com
Courtesy csmonitor.com

Gafsa – Natacha Atlas

Maktub (etheric messages) – Natacha Atlas

C’est la vie – Jean-Michel Jarre feat. Natacha Atlas

 

To where I will bloom

To where I will bloom

10 January 2016

bloom thecreatorsproject vice com

The rain fell softly

Upon brown desert landscapes

Where sand had rusted

 

The wind howled on bleak

Echoing through rocky peaks

Time’s grey witnesses

 

Beyond yellow stretched

Between grey peaks green ravines

The light hid in play

 

A journey inward

Where barren neighboured the lush

Reflected outward

 

Inside these valleys

Surrounding peaks bring to eyes

Moist loss of today

 

Whisper to me feats

In the mind’s eye that listens

Bravado a must

 

I will bid you tales

When tomorrows’ letters spell

New recollections

 

There was a road spent

In travel to chances dreamt

Under moonlit skies

 

This ride has begun

A long and dusty road blinks

Withering in sun

 

We walk oft alone

When butchers cut the pieces

They square them smallest

 

When all else has failed

What more to rid now these lands?

Only my hopes’ pearls

 

Shimmering presence

Between two worlds I flicker

A ghost of myself

 

Fold tight the napkin

We are all going somewhere

You might follow soon

 

Once on other side

Remember me by the touch

Of hidden insights

 

Now this tired flame

Dilates and shrinks as I sail

To where I will bloom

 

bloom fastcodesign com

 

Animated pictures courtesy fastcodesign.com and thecreatorsproject.vice.com

Going somewhere – Abel Korzeniowski

Flying with whales – Abel Korzeniowski

 

bloom wallpaperscraft comCourtesy wallpaperscraft.com

Did spring arrive early?

Did spring arrive early?

27 December 2015

bird pinterest com
Courtesy pinterest.com

The sand gathered

Rain attempted paths

Would desert gain terrain?

 

Puddles formed slow

The roads were heavy

Why did my Heart feel light?

 

The flowers bloomed

My Heart sang larky

Did spring arrive early?

 

birds pichost me
Courtesy pichost.me

 

With a special thanks to Dajena aka moonskittles for introducing me to the form of the Questionku (learn more about it here) and to Thomas aka hooklineandinkwell for giving me the extra nudge to attempt it.

Lullaby of Birdland – Ella Fitzgerald

Let’s do it – Ella Fitzgerald