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WOMEN OF ART -- OF WORDS | |
| POETRY | |
| Here are some of my friends...they weave their words into pictures for us all to see...ENJOY! | |
SIGHT
Always the hand,
They reached for
When they couldn't see land.
Showing the sun,
When it was the dark
They wanted to flee from.
Leaning on me,
when they couldn't
stand to just ....be.
Where I see a temple,
they only see ruins,
an old abandoned tomb.
Senses more and above,
we learn to see eyeless
with our heart and love.
Not better or wrong,
just different birds,
singing a different song.
� Shanyn Craig -- 2 September 1998
Used by permission only.
Untitled
Once upon a bright spring day,
Not knowing what she'd find,
Peace took a walk among the trees
With happy thoughts in mind.
The sun's light shone upon the grass,
The posies swayed with the wind.
A gentle wave of green and white,
Unhindered by their sins
And farther on, the trees grew tall,
Straight with royal grace.
With branches full of glowing life,
They offered Peace a place.
But when Peace walked on hardened soil
The sun did disappear.
The wind turned cold, the grass all died,
The trees all shrunk with fear.
And Peace turned up her gentle face,
And gazed straight into Fear's
She gasped, and fell onto the ground
And promptly disappeared.
Fear laughed, his voice a cold, rough sound,
And stomped along the path.
He made his way to fertile soil
Then released his pent up wrath.
A might roar, a flash of light,
The wind blew hard and cold.
The trees grew bare, and lost their life,
Their fresh green growth turned old.
The sun grew scared, and hid from Fear,
Behind the dark grey clouds.
The grass dried up, despite the rain,
The posies heads were bowed.
And pretty soon, Fear took control,
Upon that bright spring day.
And turned a happy country dark.
What havoc Fear can play.
� Trisha Mark
Life--A View
Trapped, looking out at the world,
Between the bars of my cage I see
There are things I need to do, feel, see
Things I have to be, want to experience
A leash, holding me back
Keeping me within my cage
Food, Shelter, everything I need, I have
Love, to be given in measures
How do you show it, feel it, know it?
Feeling I can't handle, good and bad mixed
The most confusing time of my life
I need help, but don't know how to ask
If I did, would they know how to help?
Stumbling, pulling myself up again
Seeing others stumble, I want to help
I feel a kinship, situations similar but different
Somehow there's no comfort in that
Only aggravation, confusion, anger, tears
Tears, so many tears, shed over nothing!?!?
Anger, nothing to direct it at, no release
Aggravation, created, not vented
Confusion, a result
Everything keeps going, on and on
I go on and on with it
There's no other choice, I see no option
Others give advice, sounds good
'No other choice, no other choice'
A haunting melody, echoing in my head
Is there a choice? Can't it go on without me?
Nowhere to hide, do I really want to?
So many questions, to myself, others, God
Questions unanswered; do I want to know?
Endlessly searching for something, what is it?!?!
So many unknowns
Wondering if this is the constant, the always
Try to sort it out, classify, define
The human instinct, like machinery
But it's not like that, is it?
� Trisha Mark
An answer to "Life--A View"
"Un, Dwa, Twa!"
a stranger in paradise
mewling babe, really
carries three dice & shaking like jelly
but still struggles onward
bravely, filled with courage
knowing at any moment, a downward curve
could possibly surge and......well
rune it!
meanwhile, in the dugout
the wizard his cauldron is bubbling
grins and humms Lonegrin
to himself and no one in particular
well he says
after all life it is a marriage
of sorts
he hums and sings and chants and doesn't really give
a damn if someone comes along and
runes it
after all it IS life
and he tries and tries to make people see that the true evil is really just
a wryd "life'
spelled backwards actually
and in the blackness of things
no reason or rhyme for it really
other than man's in humanity to man
it still is and was and shall
ever be the tale of two cities
a cauldron half full
or a cauldron half empty
depending on where you put your eyes
yeah, that is about the size of it
a marriage, poor figaro
poor sweet bacarrolle
but still even in Eb minor
it tickles your ears
yes life .......it does!
� Kristy Foster -- 10 Jun 1998
Untitled
Peering into dark waters
So still, quiet shimmers
comes a humming resonance
so softly, singing.
Standing as a whirlpool
dancing in the sunlight
humming, and bobbing and singing
and......... smiling
love, when did she first appear?
love, as the sky cried tears from above!
roses opened and the blood droplets fell
angel wings fluttering as leaves rustling
in the wind.
moon beams casting shadows on white sand
purple twilight spinning dreams on the land
comes a whispering in the air
breathily, whispily...... warm......
rthymically, so soft at first
not sure it really is there
but then the heartbeat steadily grows
lub dub !lub dub! lub dub! lub!
the timing so perfect
exquisite! one knows
beyond understanding
just knowing. and the
music plays.
on the dark waters
the fuscia lotus grows.
opens carefully and explodes!.....
unbeknownst to all.
� Kristy Foster -- June 8, 1998
The White Lady
emerald and smoky hills await
and silently, silently,she comes
billowing dark clouds heralding the approach
below, a wet lands wonder the chorus of the tree peepers loudly plunder
her ears
but she minds not, only smiles brightly of late
creating a cool errie glow in the velvet sky
and louder and louder the druids hum
even startling the june bug roach
in the distance the lightning cracks and thunders
her ears
but she minds not. only grinning broader
while faireies dance a mushroom ring
all red and yellow spots so we'll know
just who was here this night of nights.
the willow joins in weeping at first
but the rain and the breeze quickly quench her thirst
moss draped oak and hawthorn trees bend and twist so they
might see!
the mighty antlered one stands senteniel watching for morauders
none come save for the gypsie lovers
naked in their rites
the white goddess warms their skin so they feel her glow
on this the night of nights
the bodrahns beat as a thundering heart
and witches cry and scream
phosporus green flashes lighting their hair
but the lady ever only smiles harder
then quickly suddenly it's over.
bright blessing daylight is come.
� Kristy Foster -- May 2, 1998
Journal Entry
I've slipped down
between the cracks,
no one has noticed I'm gone.
A locust shell, empty husk,
clinging, as if in life to existing,
but for the little crack
where I slipped out.
People come to tap
and asked stupid questions,
but I'm not there.
I push the door
a little further shut,
darkening the light
that use to be me.
(written by Melody Nolan in 1993-94)
� Copyrighted by the author, Melody Nolan. Used by permission only. 1998.
Pen or 'puter to paper or disk,
our pain and damages go forth,
scribbled or typed,
to unravel and unwind.
We acknowledge to ourselves and others.
We let the hurts out,
they are exposed to wind and sun and rain,
and are blown, seared, washed away ....
I carry the papers and the disks
down to the shore, out to the garden,
up onto the hill in the woods.
I hang them on branches
among the birds' nests.
I beat them with rocks,
I bury them in gritty sand and soft dark loam.
I burn them.
Healing comes.
� July 23, 1998
Untitled
Do you reach beyond to touch the sky, or lag behind afraid to try?
Do you reach beyond to learn anew, or hesitate- the same old you?
Do you reach beyond to test your limit, or do you tell yourself, I'm timid?
Do you reach beyond to lead the pack, or do you waste your time looking back?
Do you reach beyond and strive to find, better ways to stretch your mind?
Do you reach beyond to care and share and help some others do or dare?
Do you reach beyond and claim your space, here and now, this time this place?
Do you reach beyond and try to soar, or sadly, play it safe once more?
� Suzy Sutton
Falling
Wise words slice through the
Foggy blanket of sorrow
I clutch both edges, pulling them together
Tightly, held by frozen fingers, stretching it across my chest,
Protecting the tender meat of myself
Wisdom imparted - follow your heart
A simple directive, a gossamer wish
But I will know my heart's intention before
Blindly tripping the faerie lights of that old road
Where hidey-holes await, their hungry breaths held.
Once stumbled into, they are without mercy
No soft, sandy bottoms to break my descent
Nor turquoise pools in which to float
Just the endless falling of my essence
As it cartwheels ever down, gathering speed
No mothering hands reach to quelch the spiral
No silvery angel whispers weaving
solace through my flowing hair
Only the grey need to be buried alive
In the womb of the earth
From which life first sprang
�Leisa Quinn
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