Beaten
204 creative works found
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A BEATEN CHILD
by Sally OmarShe hid the bruises / Hidden pain / Of a life / So insane / Parents beating on a child / A good little girl / Not at all wild / She sits i…
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a NI landscape …
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CHILD ABUSE IS A DISGRACE
by Sally OmarA little infant, a little child / Wanting just to be held awhile / Instead being beaten, their bodies sore / Not even protected by the…
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Location: Historical Virginia City Cemetery / Technique: HDR
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Beaten Heart
by loramaeFrom the very first day my eyes adored you… / I drank of your essence from afar. / And hoped that I would someday soon… / Know the man…
Written for someone dear to me…I understand…
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Thank you, Canon DSLR Users Group!
by Arla M. RugglesFor featuring The Red Rocker
For featuring The Red Rocker
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Two Features :)
by Stephen Rowsell/ ““Ga…
/ “Gaia’s Hand” was featured in the group ART ACTION UNION – CREATIVE ACTIVISM. / “The Beaten Path II” was featured in the group Don’t Fence Me In. A couple of awesome groups with awesome, talented work. :) Thank you!
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Acrylic, ink and pencil on canvas board. Artwork done for Kristoffer Morgan. / Please listen to his music, I can’t say enough good things about it!
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mocked and ridiculed
by Jan Stead JEMproductionsmocked and ridiculed / taunted and teased / draped in purple / a crown of thorns / pierced his skin
As I was uploading a photo of a last year’s Good Friday cross, I contemplated it, reflected and thought about what Jesus went through, the incredible suffering and heartache he endured for me, for you, for us, and I was moved to words.
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Get Up And Win The Race
by Carrie Glenn“QUIT! GIVE UP! YOU’RE BEATEN!” They shout and plead, / There’s just too much against you now, this time you can’t succeed. / And as I star…
“QUIT! GIVE UP! YOU’RE BEATEN!” They shout and plead, / There’s just too much against you now, this time you can’t succeed. / And as I start to hang my head in front of failure’s face, / My downward fall is broken by the memory of a race. And hope refills my weakened will as I recall that scene. / For just the thought of that short race rejuvenates my being. / A children’s race, young boys, young men; now I remember well. / Excitement, sure, but also fear; it wasn’t hard to tell. They all lined up so full of hope. Each thought to win that race. / Or tie for first, or if not that, at least take second place. / And fathers watched from off the side, each cheering for his son. / And each boy hoped to show his dad that he would be the one. The whistle blew and off they went, young hearts and hopes of fire. / To win, to be the hero there, was each young boy’s desire. / And one boy in particular, his dad was in the crowd, / Was running near the lead and thought, “My dad will be so proud.” But as he speeded down the field across a shallow dip, / The little boy who thought to win, lost his step and slipped. / Trying hard to catch himself, his hands flew out to brace, / And mid the laughter of the crowd, he fell flat on his face. So down he fell and with him hope. He couldn’t win it now. / Embarrassed, sad, he only wished to disappear somehow. / But as he fell, his dad stood up and showed his anxious face, / Which to the boy so clearly said, “Get up and win that race!” He quickly rose, no damage done – behind a bit, that’s all, / And ran with all his mind and might to make up for his fall. / So anxious to restore himself to catch up and to win, / His mind went faster than his legs. He slipped and fell again. He wished that he had quite before with only one disgrace. / I’m hopeless as a runner now, I shouldn’t try to race. / But, in the laughing crowd he searched and found his father’s face / That steady look that said again, “Get up and win the race.” So, he jumped up to try again. Ten yards behind the last. / If I’m to gain those yards, he thought, I’ve got to run real fast. / Exceeding everything he had, he regained eight or ten, / But trying so hard to catch the lead, he slipped and fell again. Defeat! He lay there silently, a tear dropped from his eye. / There’s no sense running anymore – three strikes and I’m out – why try? / The will to rise had disappeared, all hope had flew away. / So far behind, so error prone, closer all the way. I’ve lost, so what’s the use, he thought, I’ll live with my disgrace. / But then he thought about his dad, who soon he’d have to face. / “Get up,” an echo sounded low. “Get up and take your place. / You were not meant for failure here, get up and win the race.” With borrowed will, “Get up,” it said, “You haven’t lost at all, / For winning is not more than this, to rise each time you fall.” / So up he rose to win once more. And with a new commit, / He resolved that win or lose, at least he wouldn’t quit. So far behind the others now, the most he’d ever been. / Still he gave it all he had and ran as though to win. / Three times he’d fallen stumbling, three times he’d rose again. / Too far behind to hope to win, he still ran to the end. They cheered the winning runner as he crossed first place. / Head high and proud and happy; no falling, no disgrace. / But when the fallen youngster crossed the line, last place, / The crowd gave him the greater cheer for finishing the race. And even though he came in last, with head bowed low, unproud; / You would have thought he’d won the race, to listen to the crowd. / And to his Dad he sadly said, “I didn’t do so well.” / “To me you won,” his father said, “You rose each time you fell.” And when things seemed dark and hard and difficult to face, / The memory of that little boy – helps me in my race. / For all of life is like that race, with ups and down and all, / And all you have to do to win – is rise each time you fall. / “Quit!” “GIVE UP, YOU’RE BEATEN.” They still shout in my face. / But another voice within me says, “GET UP AND WIN THE RACE!” -Dee Groberg
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shot by david barnes
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I was traveling along Interstate 70 and about 200 miles west of Denver when I found a pull off that was barely visible from the interstate. I was glad I stopped for this secluded area offered several wonderful scenes that I suspect are not often found. / I occasionally create a panoramic from multiple images and this is one such and is composed of 2 separate images of the area.
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Features
by coppertreesIf Only Tears Helped / was featured in THE SISTERHOOD / Ju…
If Only Tears Helped / was featured in THE SISTERHOOD / June 29,09 This piece of Art has a message with it.. I hope all who view and read carry it with you . Thank you so very much for this Feature and acknowledging the brutel side of life for many children… Thanks so much to the Hosts and the members of the SISTERHOOD
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Speckled Wood, Pararge aegeria, Butterfly, invertebrate, scruffy, weather beaten, brown, woodland, British Wildlife, Irish Wildlife, hedgerow, garden, insect, invertebrate, fern, bracken, female,
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One man’s tools as he fixes his vehicle
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I like playing with a shallow DoF. I also like playing with textures in alot of my work, but I wanted to use the natural texture of the wood on this bridge. I enjoy hiking in the area where this was taken, and I hope you enjoy this image.
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Striving against the odds-—The harsh winds and weather of the bleak open rocky landscape--it still survives—-I thought it was a Whitethorn.
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Backpacker
by Alan DeanHeat sink, blanket / holding / humid, coloured, sprinkled sand / fallen cliff-tops / crashing sparkled noise / this white sea booming pale s…
there’s a beach in India that is still like all those places of your imagination …
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early snowfall in rural Dorset ~ small pathway into the woods :)
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