Beneath summer blanketsecrets follow. Every sacred stone wondersabout her soon after. She is as gentle berry;peace river poetover an ancient wind. I used magnetic poetry for this one, aka The Oracle and tweaked it a teensy bit. The top image has been edited with filters. Carrie is the host of The Sunday Muse.
Tag: #The Sunday Muse
TSM 245 — Cuppajoe
I found relief in silhouettes drab outlines of daily life where blue flame makes fresh coffee highlights. Photo by Justin Peters Once sick I craved chaos moonlight’s molten smack that oozed my grey goo – until the cane rapped; cried Image Source surprise, holster roulette’s glok, clatter the mask, ask, go back to the beginning…
TSM 244 — “Tuesday Afternoon,” by The Moody Blues (found poem)
to see matterclouds calltrees drawfind gentle voices, sigh;myself, reflectionkind to leavethrough fairy-land come with mebegin to seeit does matterclouds calltrees draw nearfind out why hear it all Original lyrics:Tuesday afternoon.I’m just beginning to see,Now I’m on my way.It doesn’t matter to me,Chasing the clouds away.Something calls to me.The trees are drawing me near,I’ve got to…
TSM 243 — Daddy Needs a Drink
Photo by Kyle Thompson Maybe it’s being locked in the closet. Maybe it’s the surprise knuckles to the middle of my back. Maybe it’s seeing my breath on the air as I curl under the thin blanket. Maybe it’s his forcing himself into me. The day of my liberation it is mid-January. Daddy is drunk,…
TSM 242 — Lady Blue
Painting by Richard Burlet “Woman in Blue” i.She does her best to turn away from her machine lifeThose who imagine her see patterns of blue in her pixels ii.indigo diva, a shy bird who merges with the rare blue birch iii.betrayer’s lips’ union agoddess’ dismay.chameleon raimentswivels away to blue. Three perspectives on this LOVELY image. …
TSM 229, Friday Writings 45, and dVerse Poetics — Hymns March
“See the Light” by Giulio Bernardi How neatly click blocks as they form the walls of box container; clay, baked dust pads prison, hope long flown, left to airless midnights. The keeper’s metals clank thrice bringing tasteless gruel; little more than corpse fuel and sensory morsels. Heat of stones tell seasons. At times I’m graced…
TSM 241 — Fish Eye
Raoul Hausmann, Untitled, 1931, Eyes fish, rods and cones, in silver round within round in a square box. Grey scaled snap shot rumination who masticates cached mash-ups through long winter nights. Star- struck with revelatory indictables, shadow blanket holds her, warm, until morning’s cold glare of dawn. Carrie is the host of The Sunday Muse.
Tao Talk 