Words of a painter about art, painting and other thoughts about life, death and things that get in the way. I began my blog 2010.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Sunday December 11, 2010/ I saw Sunday/Sunday Scribbling/ Carry on Tuesday/Writers Island
http://carryontuesdayprompt.blogspot.com
Prompt: Title Not Waving But Drowning, of the poem by Stevie Smith.
NOT WAVING BUT DROWNING
On the boat or on shore,
I saw you waving,
A greeting,
A farewell,
But of the drowning,
I know little.
It was a tale told,
Hardly made sense,
I didn't know,
When you said goodbye,
It would be the last,
And then your life was over,
The door closed,
The sea was the same,
The waves rolled in,
The tides continued to change,
But the world was not the same.
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http://writersisland.wordpress.com/
Writer's Island
Prompt #33: Wonderous.
WONDROUS
I first heard the word whispered,
And I wondered,
I pushed ahead to see.
Later, I pulled the book from the shelf,
The word was written on every page.
Each word was a different color,
And all the pictures were of you.
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Image from the Gorilla Girls Website.
Sunday Scribblings Prompt #245: Limits
http://sundayscribblings.blogspot.com/
LIMITS
What are my limits?
I don't mean to whine,
But there are limits,
Placed because of gender,
Yes, times have changed,
And somethings are better,
But the more things change,
The more they stay the same.
There are limits placed because of age,
Each day that passes,
That pile grow larger,
And limits of location.
When one lives on the outer limits,
She must find ways to stay in contact,
With the center of the Universe,
If she can figure out where that is?
I don't like to focus on limits,
But to know they exist,
Is probably helpful.
Then remember the advantages,
This is helpful, too.
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Image from internet, roadside shrines, in New Mexico.
http://isawsunday.blogspot.com
I Saw Sunday
THE CROSSING
Today we counted,
The roadside shrines,
Constructed and decorated,
Some crosses,
Glitter fringe flies,
Flowers and ribbons.
At the very spot a person,
Crossed over,
Alcohol is the killer,
Your feet stagger in,
Soft deerskin moccasins,
Or heavy work boots,
On and off the highway,
You dance.
In New Mexico,
The tradition of,
Poverty and hopelessness,
Are alive and well
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9 comments:
Another wonderful collection of words and images..there are so many things to take from your posts which are limitless..Jae
lovely poetry collections.
well done.
We are lucky to enjoy the gift of your poetry ...
Each one of these pieces deserves its own space. See what I mean? You say methodical, I say magical, but we are not all that distant, lol.The drowning poem:I feel those feelings. Wondrous:Love the genuine simplicity. Limits: Gotta agree but also see many of them disappearing. And your I Saw Sunday made me catch my breath, especially the line about dancing in New Mexico.
Good stuff, Annell,
Elizabeth
mm...i feel that first one..the world does change in good byes and in their passing...quite sad, but i liked it...
this was good - i especially liked "But the more things change, The more they stay the same."
Wow! What a beautiful collection of work. I must say The Crossing is my favorite.
Annell,
What a wonderful collection of words you have here. The crossing reminds me of the mountain roads here in Mexico.
Pamela
I really enjoyed all of your words and agree with Elizabeth that each of these pieces deserves its own space. :-)
Thanks very much for linking to I Saw Sunday... hope to see you there next week too.
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