Happy New Year!

 by Mindlovemisery's Menagerie

Jovial entree

365 promises

Resolute New Year

Read more at: Three Word Wednesday, Mindlovemisert's Menagerie

Clothing

"Fisher-woman" by Odilon Redon 1900

Who we are

meant to be next year

discover

new clothing

to try on naked body,

touch the destiny.

Read more at: Mindlovemisery's Menagerie, BJ's Shadoma & Beyond : 3/5/3/3/7/5

Holy

Kodesh Spiritual Surrealism by Natalia Kadish

Laughing/silent

It arrives

in jingle bells

chime,

alone,

aligned

to heart’s sigh

hosting the

angels’ hide

in mirror

of perfection,

a temple

released

for those in

pure love,

bearing a

bittersweet

fruit of spirit

through scars -

to ingest,

to transform

life’s carnal way

in burning bush,

to turn the stray one

in a holy/kodesh.

by Brenda Warren

Read more at: Sunday Whirl

Snag

flickr.com

Fluidity takes its power

Rain

Body empowered

Re-think, re-treat, re-born.

Rusty hinges worn

No naivety, naughty

or good stagger

by the gate of

paradise.

Sweat burn panic

redeemed,

stopped

on the threshold

thousands of raindrops

talk

always simultaneously

perform high,

sorted out

the choices,

alliances’ help

the eyes roam

on the verge of

vapor…

by Brenda Warren

Read more at: Sunday Whirl

Shared with d'Verse OLN

Here's music between trees

Art by Peter Holme III ~ pinterest.com

Here’s music between trees

in group but loners,    

each with hologram

of images

observers, hover over

road of hopes;

winter darkened,

no snow

rocks & boulders,

cracked ground,

dipped in the mud

the cars.

Sounds  mingle

reaching trees,

absorbing carbon

dioxide

breathe! - healing

Needle Jingle Rock

returning back

with  glee.

Shared with PU Poetry Pantry

Musings

 Art by Joan ~ deviantart.com

I recognize

the messenger 

you sent       

to point the land

of Salvation, to laud

where black necked swans

query in agape love

outlining

the discernment

sky/sea curve

of savior island,

the palms

open invite/offering

bread/salt and

pixelated in

sailing sun

fest of water…

         

I build the ladder to myself,

white in long vail, light

beckoning ,

the piece missing

I am.

                

Return

returntothewild.net

In the return approach

I worry if cedar/fir/pines,     

whose aroma defusing my days,

let me go...

arms stretched before

to welcome –

now drop in silence

helplessly

to comprehend…

the urge to spread

the roots to the south

waters to match

the vibrant talk of tides

with murmur of heart.

Endeavors

photograph by Robert Doisneau

Forever

spinning

my head

has been thru all

confusions

of life

simultaneously…

lunatic, my soul

space crafted

endeavor per endeavor

to spread the synergy

to save loser tangled

planets’ treads

so angels could safely 
return home in peace…

Sunday Whirl~ by Brenda Warren

Read more at: Sunday Whirl, Magpie Tales

A miracle

etsy.com

“The day demands only a key”

E. Montale

When asked “what do you want?”

I shake the wings grown tired

of routine routs riding

in cascade of nesting issues

serving dear to heart souls.

I shake the wings in a case

the miracle stuck to

the magnet they've become

loving the work they do.

The miracle sometimes slips

through fingers holding invisible

stones of decoys and debris

detoxifying the Earth.

When found it looks like plain keys

red rose plate pendant attached

to bring the love where you
use them…

Shared with PU Poetry Pantry

Subservient

Sneaky shadow flashed through

the side of left cheek.

Bare and black

what the business

keeps in air full of strength

molecule particles,

the pixels of flux

still visible

monochrome form...

came in the light to touch

dusty walls, photos, plates,

swards of past times,

competitions, meetings with

friends and petitions

to commit and join,

fetishes of joy,

piano used to played ecossaises,

unsteady sounds hanging

in wooden ceiling

hidden in plight,

and occasional spiders

stumble there, cobweb

chords dripping on the keys

echoes…encores…

scattered around in the

living space of room
and veranda…

The hum of evening thins away *

TripAdvisor

When sunset arches above the ‘feels big’ things,

 worn-down blunt edges touching the ground,

yet distant to make all equal, to converse

the keys and passwords to hue memory,

to fold and save in carved earthy womb

where petals in the flowerbed so satisfied of gifts

received, uncurled/nurtured by bugs so treasured

and guard the giving…

When sunset arches…

I feel the breath

Of night.

The life gets lethargic, drunk of itself, vanished

to be born again in dawn dress with roses bushes,

fast perky promises of longer days, pensive nights of

bittersweet tears and cues, missing words of love

required from others, but resisted to follow through

by us.

* Eugenio Montale "The Occasions" ~ used one of the poetry line

Read more at: Three Word Wednesday, PU Mid-Week Motif

Winter blues

The winter comes again

the old girlfriend

so arrogant and cold

the snow swans pack

is winging in the sky,

my head in blues...

the sounds promising

and gaily snow flaking

the reindeer song of

the summer flirty

flicker fall at frosty

bottom of heart well...

the pensive artist

painted with whimsy

laces thoughtlessly

so neatly covered 

the memory of

fairy telling days...

Inspired by  d'Verse: Winter Blues

Arrived

Full moon rise on dark twilight sky ~ shutterstock.com

Drinking the velvet of
evergreen pines

the pupils of eyes

become dilated.

Zero - zest temperature.

Striking, blinded,

drifting - I've gone

astigmatically.

Gemini full moon -

buzz of adventure.

Think: premonition ...

Success. Love. Romance.

Ascending  moon

threw a shawl

woven in the stars

on shoulders of

meadows in hue.

Failed to feign

in down to earth

conversation

of getting somewhere.

'Why?

I’ve already arrived.'

A bustle

We’re returning home

crispy snow crackles

under the feet,

following

voices mingle.

The whole day of touching

base

with someone’s heart,

credulous necks

unleashing.

Holding the door open

for insights and issues,

loop back for granules

of sense,

and reason

our next entree

to sprinkle the magic spree

to find the solace

in distraction

bewilder

Anthropometry of Earth…

Read more at: d'Verse Meeting the Bar ~  Jargon, Buzzwords and Management Speak

Shared with PU Poetry Pantry

Hands of eternity

“This slow turning of eyes 

now able to see…”

E. Montale

Two balls, flashing in darkness,

observing, absorbed, adapting

to see the contours of bodies

and edges swaying away,

blurry becomes the beginning

of studying…

So there we are tracing

each other dreams, convexity

compliments concavity,

and between – insulation-

whole possibilities, where

No swaps with Yes

yin & yang principles…

Transparent soul, jester

playing with two eye balls

in his hands of eternity,

standup comedian-

the one, we afraid of, - a clown

why? ’cause reminds our 

hidden longing…

laughing out loud [lol].

Read more at: Poetry Jam

Bond of Union

Bond of Union, 1956, by M. C. Escher 

Etching an image into a smooth copper plate

intention to carve plane landscape with gouge,

linoleum cutter,

he loved bun-shaped roof and rocks, choosing

not architect, but art craft

printing and peeling others skins off,

exchanging the balls, brain rolls with breeze

vertical/horizontal metamorphosis,

climbing to mountains through labyrinths

to be able to touch his part of stars, bent of bond.

He gazed into maze – no time waste –

rattled through scattered corridors,

corrida of thoughts, interlocking forms,

snakes and ladders, gathering in plain

secular splendor of harvest union.

by Brenda Warren

Read more at: Sunday Whirl, Magpie Tales