Loving poem
2930 creative works found
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I’ve always loved Margaret Widdemer’s poem, “The Watcher.” I’ve coupled it with an image I took of a steeple of a very old church in Houston, Texas. I hope that those who have suffered the loss of a mother will find comfort in this photo. My mother is still alive and I am grateful for her; I created this image for those whose mothers are no longer with them and who suffer loneliness, especially during the holidays and on birthdays and anniversaries of death.
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Our dog Tammy. / With a lovely quote by George Vest Featured in ‘Inspiring Blend’ (thank you!) Featured in ‘Paws n Claws’ (thank you!)
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I’ve Seen Her I’ve seen my love; I’ve seen her pass, She walks with such a grace. She turned and smiled across at me, The sun upon her face. And I could swear I caught the scent, The fragrance of her hair. Could I believe – should I believe, Her spirit blessed me there? Her eyes so bright, they shone with love, No pain to cloud them now, And when she laughed, no line was seen, Across that perfect brow. Oh love, if you would only wait, Beyond the tears and pain, We’ll walk together, hand in hand, In love, In peace, Again. David George
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Got lucky and found a Billy Holiday recording of What A Liittle Moonlight Can Do on You Tube.. While I was working on this piece.. Billy still is wanting some play.. So here she is with my piece that I shot in San Francisco down by the Embarcadero Center..
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I can’t keep my tears inside / They burn my eyes / I have permission to cry one more time / For lost love, for broken promises, for beliefs which will never come true…
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This is not one of the flowers from my show and poems for her but will be in my book. I kiss your lips my lovely dove your trembling in my arms. / Your here tonight to give yourself it’s you that wants not I. / You settle into my arms and touch my face so soft. / And then you kiss me on my neck and tell me I am loved. / You come to me my precious love your hands shake from your fear. / You touch me where you’ve never gone I feel your pounding heart. / I hear you say that its ok you want this more than I. / But my love for your virtue tonight I must deny. / I want you too my body says my mind says this is wrong. / I want to hold you in my arms as any man would do. / But something says I need to wait until that time is right. / And look at you with loving eyes and not with shame tonight. / I feel like we are cheating two kids out in the car. / But here we are both adults but love this isn’t right. / I want to say please baby lets just wait awhile. / And then when your my lovely wife I’ll know the time is right. / And then I’ll look you in the eyes without one ounce of doubt.
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‘TIS THE LAST ROSE OF SUMMER ‘TIS the last rose of summer, / Left blooming alone ; / All her lovely companions / Are faded and gone ; / No flower of her kindred, / No rose-bud is nigh, / To reflect back her blushes, / Or give sigh for sigh. I’ll not leave thee, thou lone one ! / To pine on the stem ; / Since the lovely are sleeping, / Go sleep thou with them. / Thus kindly I scatter / Thy leaves o’er the bed, / Where thy mates of the garden / Lie scentless and dead. So soon may I follow, / When friendships decay, / And from Love’s shining circle / The gems drop away. / When true hearts lie wither’d, / And fond ones are flown, / Oh ! who would inhabit / This bleak world alone ? Thomas Moore (1779-1852)
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She has a dream… In it she finds each of her parts.. her whole body in parts and inside those parts.. she sees other parts and inside those..others….. all of them are taking apart their structure …they are taking apart..HER!! WHAT TO DO NOW THAT HER WISHES ARE COMING TRUE!!!
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PLEASE VIEW LARGE Here’s the thought: “what would it be like to enter an elevator and get all of lifes questions answered…. you know the old fashion type of elevator.. with the pull metal door that perhaps now you only find in freight elevators… I have been and will be working on a images that I plan to use as a series for sale as art and as a book. Elevator Instructions…Have a peek at the others.. ELEVATOR INSTRUCTIONS… BOOK 1..How to Live / ELEVATOR INSTRUCTIONS… How To Avoid Alienation / ELEVATOR INSTRUCTIONS… When Dad Leaves / ELEVATOR INSTRUCTIONS… On Loving Lifetimes / ELEVATOR INSTRUCTIONS… On Becoming Enlightened / ELEVATOR INSTRUCTIONS… On Dining Out / ELEVATOR INSTRUCTIONS… On Being Naked / ELEVATOR INSTRUCTIONS…On What Is Evil
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PLEASE VIEW LARGE Here’s the thought: “what would it be like to enter an elevator and get all of lifes questions answered…. you know the old fashion type of elevator.. with the pull metal door that perhaps now you only find in freight elevators… I have been and will be working on a images that I plan to use as a series for sale as art and as a book. Elevator Instructions…Have a peek at the others.. ELEVATOR INSTRUCTIONS… BOOK 1..How to Live / ELEVATOR INSTRUCTIONS… How To Avoid Alienation / ELEVATOR INSTRUCTIONS… When Dad Leaves / ELEVATOR INSTRUCTIONS… On Loving Lifetimes / ELEVATOR INSTRUCTIONS… On Becoming Enlightened / ELEVATOR INSTRUCTIONS… On Dining Out / ELEVATOR INSTRUCTIONS… On Being Naked / ELEVATOR INSTRUCTIONS…On What Is Evil Where Ya Been Hal? / Linaji 2009 What is endless as I peer into the crystal ball? / Where you been Hal? / Where are your torn socks from last life’s romp? / Did you see the Ivory Coast yet?? / Did you taste that dish of ice cream from Peru? / With berries that cure cancer / But ohh what to do? / Berries gone soon they say / By the fires for fields of soy beans / And Corn Fuel and still some sugar cane. This time round Hal you better get there soon. Loving you lifetimes? / This seems so abrupt and surreal / Like a meter out of whack / Or a singer whose cut no less / Not hitting that high C / A fly hit her throat / What Luck! / That’s what she said to me. Just letting you know friend / The world keeps moving on / No different from before / When you used to call me ‘mom’ / Oh I know I was 65 and you were older still / But calling me a name like that / Truly made me ill!! Hold me close and tell me how much / You adore / Me and my long silky locks / Teaching me to connect the dots / And smear the patterns that I lost / Inside your life and wishes and your / Begging me for more? / Yep I remember you doing all that / Just like the life before.. It’s about patterns for me now dear / And indigo blue / I feel a temptation to let you know / What I am to do.. as I walk and I strut / And I feel your lazy hummm / My life this time is glorious / So find another mum!!
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Whatever you are giving your attention to is already vibrating. And when you give your attention to it, if you maintain your focus for as little as 17 seconds, you begin to include its vibration, whatever it is, in your vibration. When you see something you want, and you give it your attention, and you say yes to it, you are including whatever its vibration is in your vibration. When you see something you do not want, and you shout no at it, you are including whatever its vibration is in your vibration. In this vibrational world, which is everything, you are far more vibrational beings than you are verbal beings. You are communicating with everyone far more on a vibrational basis, than you are on a verbal basis. / Abraham-Hicks 1999 When We look around and see the terror and the upset and the rage and give our attention to what we don’t want more than how we truly wish to see the world.. well it just never ends… In my travels.. I did not see fanatics.. more normal people.. lots and lots of normal people who want what we want.. Food. shelter. clothing AND A GOOD LAUGH PLEASE VIEW LARGE Here’s the thought: “what would it be like to enter an elevator and get all of lifes questions answered…. you know the old fashion type of elevator.. with the pull metal door that perhaps now you only find in freight elevators… I have been and will be working on a images that I plan to use as a series for sale as art and as a book. Elevator Instructions…Have a peek at the others.. ELEVATOR INSTRUCTIONS… BOOK 1..How to Live / ELEVATOR INSTRUCTIONS… How To Avoid Alienation / ELEVATOR INSTRUCTIONS… When Dad Leaves / ELEVATOR INSTRUCTIONS… On Loving Lifetimes / ELEVATOR INSTRUCTIONS… On Becoming Enlightened / ELEVATOR INSTRUCTIONS…On Being Naked / ELEVATOR INSTRUCTIONS.. On What Is Evil / ELEVATOR INSTRUCTIONS… On Writers Block
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This really is putting the last of the series first.. but.. it’s all one big fat circle anyway!!! Sunset Rendezvous And he came to meet me at sunset / Is that how it always ends? / My goodness he is beautiful once again / No longer full of cancer and sorrow / He is 39 and I remember that was his favorite age / He was 39 for 5 years and then he got sick But look now with a belt from the 80’s and an / Umbrella from Harrods / He is so happy and shining and seems to know / The way. / What is he saying? / He just sounds buzzy to me / Can’t quite make it out. / But I will nod yes because that is what I feel like / Here with him at sunset / Like everything is Yes Yes Yes! I’m not even thinking really / I am just dancing in his charm / And feeling like the whole of me is present / I feel like there is no need nor want / I feel satisfied and full and beautiful I left at 70 but as I see my hands they are not / 70 years old / I think they are 30ish.. and my breasts feel ripe. / Oh this is marvelous simply marvelous / I think this life after life / Hits the spot! Linaji 2009
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I forgot I was at a friends home and this amazing sky happened..so I shot it. / Subtle and blue.
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This standing being once rooted deep in the Earth / the rivers’ waters ran high, uprooted her for rebirth A magical aura surrounds her form, in remains / as she respectfully identifies our humble domain At her base sits the medicine and strength of the Bear / whose introspective instinct fares none to compare Great Horned Owl, the largest of all night birds / guarding with discernment and outsmarting the absurd Enduring Elk supports our stamina and health / reminding us our persistence and hope brings wealth Our four-legged teachers, like the wise old wolf / taught us new paths and options, as the old were engulfed Secretive Bobcat, in her stillness, does silently watch / honoring mindfulness, with no dogma to debauch The great Buffalo reminds us scarcity is based upon fear / to be released and make way for abundance is made quite clear Atop the embodiment of Spirit, as the Eagle does soar / the freedom of oneness and connecting without keeping score Owl in the Moon oversees winds of ever-present change / whilst the realm of our ancestors broaden their range Clawed, winged, finned and even those who crawl / are akin upon Earth, as I avow never to intentionally maul As one score has passed, opening this brethrens’ door / to these medicine creatures, I gratefully accept much more than folklore. WindOwl 3/3/09 tkrosevear This photograph is of a tree downed in the rivers floods last year, that we brought to our entry and merged with photos of 7 creature teachers whom represent the four cardinal directions and above, below and within – the owl within the moon represents my spirit name and connection to them all. Animal Wisdom DOHIYI ;) XOXOX Medicine Cards
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they say...
by mimi yoonshe was born in her own dreams…
o3.3o.2oo9 .
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An international collaboration. Poem by Leon A. Walker (Florida, USA) / Image by Lilith (Netherlands) Thank you so much, Leon, for all your inspiration and magic. “The soul that sees beauty may sometimes walk alone” (Goethe) You can find more of Leon’s work HERE
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today i wrote you a poem...
by Jordan Bussontoday i wrote you / a poem / and in it i whispered / a solitary secret / meant for you alone
today i wrote you poem… / jordan busson. 21 june 2009.
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I was inspired by the poem of Happy Feet 5, written here she keeps it real, and lets the words that we think about YOU , flow into her pen.. thankyou , Iris A storm is a brewing and it’s calling my name / a storm is a brewing and it’s all in my brain. The thoughts are a swirling like twisters in my head / could this be the storm that I’ve become to dread? I feel like the Mad Hatter who has gone insane / and my thoughts are like the White Rabbit’s / who says “Rush, Rush, Rush / I’m late, late, late / Madness in my thoughts is again beginning to reign My hand takes the pen, / the pen with words starts to flow / the twisters that spin my thoughts are caught on paper / and kinder, friendlier winds start to blow. Now that what is left is a refreshing, gentle breeze / I realized that like Alice who on the ground knelt on her knees / I had fallen into a hole / I have fallen into RedBubble where writers itch / to take their magic pens and bare their very souls. Oh, Red Bubble, this time I put the blame on you for my anxiety / cause you have released the other side of the writer in me, / the one that speaks my truth, my fears, my rage, my realities. Do I dare with my truth out in the open now put the virgil down / and lay me down to rest? / Nay! I dare not, for the windvane never puts the ever-shifting winds / to a test. A storm is a brewing and it’s calling my name / a storm is a brewing and it’s all in my brain. The thoughts are a swirling like twisters in my head / could this be the storm that I’ve become to dread? I feel like the Mad Hatter who has gone insane / and my thoughts are like the White Rabbit’s / who says “Rush, Rush, Rush / I’m late, late, late / Madness in my thoughts is again beginning to reign My hand takes the pen, / the pen with words starts to flow / the twisters that spin my thoughts are caught on paper / and kinder, friendlier winds start to blow. Now that what is left is a refreshing, gentle breeze / I realized that like Alice who on the ground knelt on her knees / I had fallen into a hole / I have fallen into RedBubble where writers itch / to take their magic pens and bare their very souls. Oh, Red Bubble, this time I put the blame on you for my anxiety / cause you have released the other side of the writer in me, / the one that speaks my truth, my fears, my rage, my realities. Do I dare with my truth out in the open now put the virgil down / and lay me down to rest? / Nay! I dare not, for the windvane never puts the ever-shifting winds / to a test. I worked with a caramel texture in this version that I was not too crazy about :)).. it is the pier of Miami I took while on a cruise vacation. lol /
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one of my latest paintings inspired by a poem by ricardo blancas: / Your Favorite Color I am a pacifist / who has never ran away / from a fight. / Over the years I’ve given / and received different colored / black eyes. the color of love. / the color of hate. / the color of rage. / the color of faith. I lay awake at night, / consumed by thought; / my mind is in constant search / of answers to questions / yet to be asked. As I look out the window, / I tend to find you’re face, / in constellations / that have no place in time or space. Condemned to live life / in a series of fairytale / like day dreams, / for ever I’ll be a perpetual slave / to the rules of man. / Drowning my sorrows / in a series of silent screams / that only those who’ve / suffered as I’ve suffered / can hear. Frustration and happiness / go hand and hand. / As there is nothing more / frustrating than chasing happiness / in the middle of the night. Nothing sadder than / waking up each morning / to find that I once again / fell short of a dream. / Hopes tends to fade away like / cigarette smoke in the wind. / / the original painting is 16×20 inches acrylic and oil on masonite and is available as the original from contact with artist… / for all occasions, fineart products can be found here at redbubble and also at my zazzle fineart gallery below, if you like please visit
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2009 Acrylic on 140 lb. Watercolour paper 24×18” Tribute to Womanhood World in His Arms was Featured in Inspired Art World in His Arms the painting was Featured in Love and Romance Group Oct. 23, 2009 A second Collaboration with Anthea and Reynaldo. The World In his Arms is the 14th Painting of our Tribute to Womanhood Series of 40 paintings/drawings/poem collaboration, and the fourth in our mini series Woman in Relation to Man. For the next six uploads we will be looking at women in relation to their men from many different perspectives. Even if a man is not present in the painting we will depict the woman’s feelings for and towards her man. It is such a great honour and pleasure to work with Anthea on this Collaboration, / as She is a brilliant and highly gifted / artist, poet, writer Australian Beauty. Paintings: Reynaldo / Painting and Poem: Anthea The World in his Arms She is to him the most precious gift / She is the beat of his heart, / the beam of his moon, / the shine of his stars / and the ignite of his passion. He shows her that she / is the ocean to him by / the way he tenderly strokes her neck, / runs fingers through her hair / By the way his eyes look / beyond her eyes and his / ears listen to her words, / his mouth asks her questions / longing to know her heart. He demonstrates his passion for her / by the way he admires her intelligence, / holds up her ideas and never / undermines her sensitive heart / He whispers softly in her ears / urging her to blossom and not / be afraid to dance in the daylight. And she knows that he honours her / by the respect he shows by hearing her heart / And she feels his attention / by the way he notices the emotion in her face / She understands he loves her / by the way he holds her when she cries. He holds her in his arms / and she feels contained and intensely calm / She holds him to her breast / and he feels her nurture and respect / He lifts her up to the heavens / and makes her feel like a real goddess. And he knows the universe smiled on him / because not only does he have the stars / he holds the world in his arms and speaks / out loud – This is my woman! By Anthea Slade
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© 2009 Danilo Lejardi / (Mira is a red giant star estimated 200-400 light years away.) I felt so moved when I first read Dead Suns and Dying Stars, the poem by artist Lianne that I couldn´t help but trying to create an image inspired by it. I know a single image cannot express nor the visceral universe of this poem, neither its infinite subtilities, but it´s just my way of trying to deal with my own feelings and to draw things out. / Thanks from the heart, dear Lianne, for feeding our souls with this outstanding inspiration! Here´s the poem by artist Lianne Schneider. Dead Suns and Dying Stars Empty stars devoid of light, / ashen suns devoid of heat / litter the universe frozen, lifeless, / all dead or dying in the cosmos / winking out like houses gone dark. / And I am Mira in her death throes / orbiting the dead, cold core of you / my binary companion, love star whose / nearness once radiated light to me / whose chemistry generated atomic reactions / in my heart and in my superheated core- / the heat of our fusion the physics / of our intimate and co-dependent galaxy. / When your intense desire had cooled / and your inner fuel of love was spent, / your cataclysmic collapse became the trigger / that sent me hurtling through the cosmos / throwing off the light and heat and color / of all I had become in a fiery comet tail / signifying my fall from your grace. / A thousand light years from now / my death will still be emblazoned on the sky / for love dies no more quickly than a star. © Lianne Schneider October 2009
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On our journey through life, we encounter many things that inspire us. This tree inspired me, and took my breathe away. I am just enjoying the journey with the small inspirations that come my path. The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science. ... Albert Einstein I think that I shall never see A poem lovely as a tree. A tree whose hungry mouth is prest Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast; A tree that looks at God all day, And lifts her leafy arms to pray; A tree that may in Summer wear A nest of robins in her hair; Upon whose bosom snow has lain; Who intimately lives with rain. Poems are made by fools like me, But only God can make a tree. —Joyce Kilmer
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“LIVE LOVE DREAM” Group – December 2009 / “IMAGE AND WRITING” Group – December 2009 / “LIGHT OF LOVE” Group – December 2009 / “YOUR LIVING SPACES” Group – December 2009 SHE It was unexpected… / As a rainbow in the middle of the storm / as a ladybird tickling your fingers / like the raindrops hanging down a tiny spider’s web. And came unexpected. She. / Like a nightingale’s song. She / Softly like a feather She, / whispering her wondrous love poems. She, / my friend. © Luanda, December 17th 2009 I took this shot AT HOME with my CYBER SHOT 5.1 Compact Camera – SONY / (173 Views)
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