Abstract Photo 2701 Crystal Landscape 108 The last door of love

The last door of love

has closed for me now

You opened my heart to love

then you went away

Just as the sunset 

closes on the day

The shadows all enfolding

you took the light away

In the darkness of night

I reach out for you there

And in that lonely space of silence

all hope fades away

If the sun should rise tomorrow

should I look for you there? 

Or are you gone forever

Gone without a care...

Poem - Dianne Dawes

Foto Abstracta 2692 Visiones de nuestro naufragio - Visions of our shipwreck

Deep colors sometimes seep

through misty mornings

and we use them to tip-toe

gingerly over the shards

of this icy foundation, a

framework that once buoyed

us, but now only toys with

our sinking sailing skills. 

See, there are memories 

shining with the sheen of time,

o captain, my captain….and I 

salute you for those. 

Lydia - Writerquake

Abstract Photo 2687 Crystal Landscape 106 Ships full of hopes

At this point history

breaks free of its prison.

After a million-year lockdown

and hard-pressed in rock layers,

these planispirals shatter

a thousand ocean drops.

Clear as crystal they crest

the waves of time.

Leaping into the now,

their sculptured beauty

brings a long lost past

capturing human eyes

for the first time.

Ammonites - Paul Mortimer

we walked the sand

as the tide moved away

looking for colored glass,

sea blue, sail white, golden amber,

the palest of green

yes, he said,

bits of flotsam

from ancient ships,

crystalline ships that once sailed

under gossamer wings,

their hulls of finest quartz and amethyst

sparkling in the sun

clear as the seas on which they moved.

under full sail,

they were an enchanting sight

moving across the cerulean waters

in the clear light of day-

ahhh, but at night,

the reflection of stars

glistened across the shimmering deck

lighting the ships with an internal spark-

my, it would have been a sight to see.

but now,

all that is left

of the great crystalline ships

that once sailed the clear blue seas…

and he handed me a shard of sparkling sea glass,

the palest of greens

                                                                                    Sea Glass - kathleen Everett

Foto Abstracta 2685 Impulso hacia la eternidad - Impulse toward eternity

Upon Reflection

Listening to the world,

do I filter out distortions

or add them?

When looking through my lens

do I see enemies or

do I see friends?

What do you perceive

from the other side of your eyes

and mind?

And when the world

looks back at me…

what’s the version that it sees?

Mary Bach - Writing in the Bachs 

the little chinese girl

(with forest hair)

teeter totters

—–feet to feet,

——–(green neon laces)

as the elderly librarian

——-slow-scans

cd–

——dvd–  (i yawn)

———a couple books–

checKs for scraTches,

beep-loads silence, sparKs

of electricity, (felt only

on the thin skin

of my neck),

books piled on a stack,

reTurned, warm with fingerprints,

dive boldly back into the circuit,

& the cat has human eyes,

like horses that i talked to

in a painting by chagall

(there was a weird sense of trust, i swear

they moved their heads toward me)

& where would a painter put us,

as we throw no shades

nor offer color, i sang in the car today

(self-invented, life to tune)

but no one knows,

& now stand,

fish in row, two of three books un-read,

(sorry, but the painter wouldn’t know),

nor the little girl–

nor the water-carrier

with diffusing face,

he would proceed,

balancing two rim-filled buckets on his stick,

(with o-shaped legs) &

whistling on his way–

just like we all do

what we keep in giving back - Claudia Schoenfeld

Ask me what I cherish most of all and I
Can only answer the one place
I am always drawn to, a spot in between
The has been and the infinity of my thoughts.

There the trees are red. Their leaves, the color
Of Homer’s wine dark seas, sigh the sighs
Of sustenance for my heart that always hungers
To be released from the limitations of my body.

Some landscapes are dry and hard to cross.
Others, filled with hills, mountains, deep valleys
And weather that plagues a traveler. Here
The world is flat, with no impediments,
The views are all horizons reaching out
Beyond the bonds that hold me.
The air is always placid, moving just
To feel I am being caressed by the hands
Of invisible lovers unceasing in their ardor.

The grasses grow in shades of blue to mimic
The differences the sky assumes as the sun
Moves in erratic ways keeping rhythm
With the water that runs in shallow rivers
I know will take me a lifetime to cross each one,
But then, my soul is not my heart and dances
In and out from form to form at will.

As for contention with time’s distraction,
I measure the passage of the moment
By the marvels of things created
And miraculous aspects of things existing.
What is more important to cherish
Than all this.

Marvels of Things Created and Miraculous Aspects of Things Existing - KB

Foto Abstracta 2678 Abrazo de cristal - Crystal Embrace

Provenance Rerun

The kaleidoscope of commonsense melted.

Twists and burns heaped metaled mirrors

head to toe. We were left holding scrapnel

in a sequence fail, seething mess

irreversible. Our plans for lasting change

made us look like miscreants, offering hands

to solutions longer than death penalty.

Reconstruction’s din bled our ears. Pools

of effused water found living algae, shocked

the sweet spot protozoa to planet seed.

We mined splashes of lucid light droppings,

and the opulent blanket of All is Well held.

                                                        Provenance Rerun - Jane Davitt Hewey

       

Abstract Photo 2673 Crystal Landscape 104 Disquisitions of Dante

a mohawk wave

swoosh down slide

cliff dive goatee

situation

she found herself in

when they met

still, she kissed

his right cheek

before the fall

Lip Stains - Laurie Kolp

Foto Abstracta 2671 Tu amor es un como un manto de burbujas - Your love is like a mantle of bubbles

Her arms  bejeweled

her skirt tie-dyed
her blouse doesn't match
     she doesn't care.

Her boots strut
her body sways
    she looks the world in the eye
ribboned hair flutters in the breeze.

A rainbow walking
She knows who she is
     and proudly
     non-paradoxically
     she struts it!

Bejeweled - Maria

Foto Abstracta 2663 El Creamundos - The Createworlds

Poetics: attempting to keep my genes on (and still make children) - Brian Miller

if the devil wears prada & God pearly white

i don't know where my jeans fit

(they're off the bargain rack)

but serve a purpose

at the end of the drive, the long grass

by the mail box post scratches at them,

cars whizzing past---

                              [shunk]

close the mouth & flip through the ads,

(it's all we get---these days)

'look at that!'

a flyer proclaiming they'll tell me

where my genes fit

for just 99 bucks & a bit of DNA

all from the convenience of my own home

which they'll disassemble like a buick,

anal-eyes each part to determine

just what will kill me---up to 209 possibilities,

sin-dromes you might pass on to your off-

spring, ancestral history, that

disease your great great great great

gramps kept (how great is that?)---what's

hiding under your hood,

nuts & bolts

                 already they tinker, fix the inner space

so the blurred line ends with the next man-

ufactured birthing

                        complete w/ pre-emptive cosmetic surgery

we need a checklist:

      athletic ability (check)

      asthma (nope)

      endowment (check, check, check)

      poetic (well, let me think on that)

nip/tuck----tick, tick, tick (BING!), schlupp out pops 

our uber child (widget)

              isn't (s)he cute

& if we're god, who's left to blame

                        when it all goes wrong

the emperor has no clothes on, 

            the devil wears prada

                 junk mail recycled

                                    & i'll

                                        keep my jeans on

(a little while at least)

BRIAN MILLER

crimson tongues ensnares

a lollipop, enchanting it

to azure hue

while

purple shadows playing

peek-a-boo

with verdant rabbits

dressed in coats.

far away I see

the pink horses

marching to a sound machine

and go boom boom bang

while high above

magenta tracks

from sluggish badgers

painting tic-a-toc

across a sky of

tangerine and green

and deep below

the ruby elephants are

served Martinis

(without olives)

-
and then I wake
(without even getting a sip)
—
May 25, 2013

NO MARTINI FOR ME - Björn Rudberg

Abstract Photo 2659 Crystal Landscape 102 A TO Z "U"

 "U" 

 Uncertain Life 

each cell limbers,

stretching across the green expanse- 

           chew, grind, chew--  

leaf by leaf, 

crown, tail, limb of tree, 

           chump, swallow, chump--

oak foliage is

my bed, night after night

           shedding skin, shedding

colors, spiny bristles

moving along like spongy train-  

          evade, wiggle, evade-- 

sting of hungry

predators anxious for a repast- 

         crawl, curl, crawl--

into the crevice,   

where silky threads cocoon me -

         wet wings wobble 

as clouds spin  

faster than fallen leaves, bug-bitten, 

         suckled dry, slug-defiled--

this dark womb- 

i'll soon fly, remembering nothing: 

         earthly chaff & toil--  

but the sweep 

of wind on my face, 

         sun-colored & dazzling--  

The march of a caterpillar - Gracia