She is young,
this artist-self
celebrating discovery
He chastises enthusiasm,
this intellect-self, favours
logic over emotions
I use disability as an excuse
Accept intellect’s restraints
Ignore encouragement
Refrain from submitting
Halter progress
Youth has ambition
her paint spattered hands
grasp at opportunity –
her tender heart
emits a joyful tune..
…but age,
having abandoned ambition,
is hard of hearing.
(Art mine)
Consciousness commands
a shift of focus –
tired of the clash of colours
stimulation overload –
my muse is leaning towards
the nuance of black and white
A study of shadows
and shading
and how light
arouses the soul
Speak to me in subtleties
she whispers
in tones suggestive
of hidden depths;
I am listening
And so I submerge myself
clear the palette of vibrant hues
and take up the lowly pencil
seek the promise
in colourless world.
(Colourless Expressions first appeared here August, 2020. Art mine)
Cast my shadow over white banks
assert presence: proud, defiant
Will find beauty in deserted places
and colour in the monochrome
Haunted by a Winter state of mind
resolved to stretch despite chill.
(Image my creation)
The woman currently abiding
within this costumed realm
is merely a lethargic version
of the once vital but oppressed
Miss, whose identification
was stolen by means of
unsolicited adversity.
The focus of this recanting
is to invite a perspective
that not only restores, but
aids in the teaching of other
shadow-selves, that to reassert
original nature is more than fair.
(A quirky rant for Reena’s Xploration challenge: a stolen identity ; and Eugi’s weekly prompt: shadows. Art my own)
I like to wear garlic
when creating art –
keeps the demons
from taking part
Days I forget
perspective lost –
whirlwind of ink
quite deceptive
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson
Art my own)
I didn’t steal the moon!
The tone is lackadaisical
but the sky incision bears
an uncanny resemblance
to her handiwork – even
stitches, gossamer threads-
the sorceress has gone too far.
(A whimsical poem borrowed
from Twitter @Vjknutson.
Art my own)
Open to healing –
create a space for inspiration
delve into the subconscious
Enter with pure intentions
ignore limited capabilities –
no offerings are meager –
Embrace new starts
with faith in ability –
be spurred into action
Self holds the answers
creative expression is key –
no expertise required.
(Open to Healing first appeared here in August, 2015.
Edited for this post. Art my own)
I am woman
questing…
a warrior
slashing bonds
of painful past
an aerialist
balancing strife
with fleeting bliss
a she-reptile
shedding distrust
in vulnerability, growing
I push through
the tangled maze
of personas, seek a truth
that frees my spirit
and roots my essence
into blessed being
For I am woman
with a quest…
striving on…
(Art my own. I call her The Mother Tree)
Acts of vandalism
are not deserved
Grime of violation
does not wash off
If change is target
then create intrigue
Highlight inequity
demonstrate alternatives
Crash and burn
ineffective as hell.
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson.
Image my own.)
Pain circumvents our fears
squeezes relentlessly
Still we proceed
withholding complaint
for this is labour –
a trial that harnesses
depth of determination
unfathomable focus
Somewhere along the process
an instantaneous shift
there is wonder to behold
and indescribable bliss
Birth is happening
and they’ll be no going back.
(Art mine)
One Woman's Quest 