Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Wednesday January 19, 2011 Poetic Assides/ A River of Stones



Poetic Assides #prompt #119 Serendipity-The faculty of finding value or agreeable things not sought for.
http://blog.writersdigest.com/poeticasides/

BOOK PROJECTS ARE SERENDIPITOUS
My book projects begin
With a serendipitous experience
Each project is based upon a "find"
Of some kind.

I know on one level
What I am looking for
"It" must be able to be
Expressed in the form of a book,

Although I really like my books,
To be apart of a project
I want the book to go beyond
Just a book, to be more

I attempt to find
And combine materials
That seem to have the power
Of stories and images

Things that connect me to the past,
To lives lived,
That inform my present life,
Through signs of use and wear
Reveal the connection
Of memory to experience.

In the beginning,
I never really know for sure
What I am looking for,
The "find" must speak to me,
Stimulate my process

It begins as a seed of thought,
And then I begin to visualize,
The story.
Sometimes the projects
Are based upon,
Myth and secrets.

Sometimes the "every-life,"
It is a way to communicate.
Perhaps later
And perhaps elsewhere

Like a time released epistle,
Intended for a reader somewhere
And sometime.
Often there is a highly personal thread,
Which runs through the projects.

Dreams,
Family life,
Loss,
Relationships
One's life in the world.

I use symbolic orders of
Imagery and text
To talk of my experience
Which becomes knowledge
Through memory.

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http://www.threewordwednesday.com/

Small Stone #19
In memory of Sherry's dear friend, Pup. The loss of our spiritual friends is almost too hard to bare. It is part of being human.
http://stardreamingwithsherrybluesky.blogspot.com/

I see your strong body,
Dance and play on the beach.
The tide is coming in.
You are a dark shadow,
In memory,
You live today
In the heart.
Spirit too strong to kill.
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Image is from the internet.
Three Word Wednesday prompt: descent, kill, surreal
http://www.threewordwednesday.com/

I REACH FOR YOU
Descent is not difficult,
I have but to take one step,
And I go pell, mell, tumble, bumble,
Down into that rabbit hole,
Much like the one that took
Alice to Wonderland.

Though similar,
It is not the same,
My stomach clutches,
My mouth is dry,
There is a ringing in my ears.
The landscape is desert,
All is surreal.

There is an albino
In my room.
He is here to kill.
It happens every time.
And yet I find my way back.

Perhaps that is all it is,
A mixed up nightmare,
That cleans out all the dust,
I awake in the morning light,
All is shinning,
All is bright...
I reach for you.

5 comments:

Kerry O'Connor said...

Beautiful words for one who has passed to the happy hunting grounds.

Linda Bob Grifins Korbetis Hall said...

superb imagery.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Wonderful writing, Annell, and your words for Pup touched me so deeply, and of course made me cry - everything makes me cry right now:) Thank you for such a beautiful poem for him.

SandyCarlson said...

That first poem is a beautiful depiction of a creative process.

Sue J said...

All lovely pieces. Do you have a blog devoted to your book projects? They look exciting and I would love to know more.

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