Losing June

By morning I have renamed us.

Thrumming wings take flight

 through crimson wounds

you have christened with your hands,

 a forgiveness I can believe in.

I’ve etched your voice in my memory

to not forget the glossy sound

of humming wings when you speak.

In dreams crystal eyes orbit above me,

brilliant satellites,

so that I may sleep free of shadows.

I’ve pared us down to dark and light,

forgotten all I knew of love and when

I try to speak my words catch

at the cache of my throat. 

Image

“The Embrace” by Gustav Klimt

Blue Bird

When I spread my wings

I feel the pull of freedom.

I spread them wide and trail

my shadow the way birds do.

Your hands are elegant thieves

your tongue a web of lies,

in this desperate nest of chaos

When the veil falls apart and

daylight slivers through I can see

the slant of sky where you slipped in.

Image

“Late at night when the wind is still
I’ll come flying through your door,
And you’ll know what love can do

I’m a Blue Bird.”

Paul McCartney

Hungry Birds

The whorl of summer

lifts the hem of her skirt

unfurling  sunsets

of  crimson and gold.

She festoons the earth

with unfastening coils

tight throated corollas

raw bursting blisters.

Warring birds swoop up

new born buds

unwilling to wait for

Winters red meat.

The Rubber Duck Committee…

Anyone for a dip in the rubber ducky pond?

Rethinking Life

Ann and Jeffery are currently in charge of the Rubber Duck Committee.  Their purpose is to make sure the Rubber Duck Pond is fully stocked with colorful and happy Rubber Ducks.  They do a wonderful job and everyone is delighted when they spot a new Rubber Duck in the pond.  There are twenty-five chicklets on the Committee and they are very dedicated.

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DRIFTWOOD GIRL

Delightful! Please visit the original

- MIKE STEEDEN -

DRIFTWOOD GIRL

immense the sea
gnarly the surge
onyx the cloak
the language of Teutons
shrieks subjugation
howls revenge
Storm Force 10
shows no remorse
takes no prisoners

Driftwood Girl
she does not
have a care
she travels on the tide
the harbour wall
her occasional gîte
the beach
her catwalk

to this day
she sings songs
of destiny
love and loss,
seaweed, faith adrift,
the sudden dive
of the cormorant
seeking breakfast, and
the message in the bottle
penned by the
desolate marooned one

I am old now
once I knew her well
she defies time, does
Driftwood Girl
she remains
forever new

her axiom
‘time and tide
waits only
for the cuttlefish’
always serves
to amuse

the big sea
has yet to find a way
to intimidate her
though even now
without malice
without forethought
there are the hearts of
generations of credulous
fledgling mariners
still to be…

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The Riches

House of Heart

From the window

as quiet as as a river I can watch

the moon shiver in the breeze

through the fronds of palm trees.

Hibiscus wave like children

their mouths move silently,

hands of garland reach out to

one another.

I am grateful for the sweet

drape of your eyes that like

fluttering wings of birds lift

the shawl of darkness where in

the light prismatic butterflies

breach their chrysalis and

vanish in the arching sky.

These are the riches

the golden sunlight passing through us.

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A Tangle of Scribbles

Our amazing fashionista Resa (One Eye) has rounded up the AGM’s and worked her magic once more. Follow the stardust to her blog…

Art Gowns

🌹Dahlings, welcome to “A Tangle of Scribbles”!  Rene Rosso here presenting Art Gowns’ third Tangle Tribute to Tim from Off Center Not Even, for his gift of pencils & other art supplies for One-Eye.

 I now hand over the mike to our Art Director Rebecca Budd. Rebecca has single-handedly brought back the fad of Palazzo Pants, aka, “the gown of trousers”.

Good evening! During the great pencil drought of 2021, One-Eye had no other course but to do a line of Art Gowns scribbled in black, blue and red ballpoint pen. It’s an exciting collection, so let’s check out the catwalk.

AGM Marina had the first fitting. Being the artistic type, she chose this wild “Why do I have to draw ballpoint scribble gowns?” venting style.

Although AGM Shey lost weight from all the DracGoth 3 am visits , it was good news during fittings. She was the…

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still life

The sun flickers like candles

lighting my surface

breaking the color of my

eyes and hair

Pulled into the vortex

art posed for still life

droplets glimmer like

strings of diamonds

on your silhouette

offshore the dolphins

are mating

as the surf wears away

our castles of sand

Estuary of Flowers

To honor the fallen

House of Heart

I step back from the light
into the dark

my wife rocks
herself to sleep
in my favorite chair.

On the beach

I want to fly but fall like

a silent prayer.

My limbs are an anchor

as I slip beneath the surface.

Once struggling palms lie flat

as gentle waves rock me.

Seaweed strands of hair mingle

with the sigh of my breath,

I grasp the hands of my

companions,

my only thing of value.

Everything beautiful is here,

all that was lost.

Birds chorus to the stones that

mark the  resting place of a

thousand warriors   in an

estuary of flowers.

art by Abel Tasman

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