The very hand that grasped the brushes and mixed the colors to paint this small portrait of the vast Cosmos is the very same hand that wa…
AFTER READING MY TEXT VISIT MY ART AND SEE THE OIL PAINTING WHICH INSPIRED THESE WORDS
In the year prior to his death, Sara’s grandfather built a mountain. The neighbours – watching speculatively as he hauled the rubblecart …
WHEN BOBBY TURNED sixteen, his mom took him to a psychiatrist. He was a restless young man, growing between divorced parents and his gran…
A concerned mother takes her teenage son to a psychiatrist. The boy is an artist, but he talks wacko sci-fi stuff all the time. Unexpectedly, his futuristic philosophy changes the life of the old shrink.
Questioning science, God and many other aspects of life.
Control nothing and remain free in the return of giving is. Death becomes laughter when you do. / Laughter, like silence comes …
A POEM FOR PEACE OF MIND.
*Crescent shaped whispers / Drifting back to hallowed ground / Surround the sacred symbols / Transfusing from the collective unconscious / Me…
He surveys the wake of disappointment, / Lingers in the shadow of pain, / And saunters in the footsteps of despair. / To him belongs eternity.
Inspired by Hamlet’s calculated insanity.
Here I am now / And in a minute I will be here / But not really here / It will be there / There is like here / But a minute that way
They say I made the moon, everything was dark. / No memories at all, just a tiny freezing wind on my back. / As I was sitting there singing…
This is not mine It is a glorious tribute to the Hubble Space Telescope with music by the band M83. Please click this link to YouTube to fully appreciate this.
Past / Our skin / And every / Bone, vein and cell – / A universe blooms. / Deeper and deeper in / Becomes closer and closer, / And farther and f…
An Etheree form, poem. this is about exactly what it says: what we, as humans being, are made of. Stars. As above, so below. Truth.
It seems the winds are still at last. / And now, I must accept the still. / Indulge in bells from inward stop. Greet it as relations who…
A poem about STOP. moment. still. quieting. truth. and the peace and freedom that comes with the art of STOP.
Sensing the outcroppings / of your inward expanse / I trace / each line, / wrinkle, / and seemingly innocent / curve, twist, and warm / subtle ...
This is, quite simply, a poem about love and how it crosses all borders; how it finds its match, other, love through time, circumstance, and any earthly obstical. this is a poem of love and the expression, joy, and timelessness of it.
the night is all mine. / i lay in lush, dew soaked grass - / hands for a pillow - / my earthbound home forgotten / as I hitch a ride with sta…
This is a tanka (Japanese style of poetry) I wrote last year; it is one of my favorites, as I am a HUGE huge stargazer. LOVE it. :)
THE LAPTOP BLEEPED behind me. It was late, and I was already in my pajamas, brushing my teeth, concerned with waking up early for tomorro…
An editor of a military sci-fi magazine receives an incredible email stating the impossible: a soldier has come back to life after being killed in Afghanistan. He wants to write his own story, but… should he, or rather can he? Is this a hoax? A prank? Is it a revelation from beyond? How much do we know about the mysteries of the universe—our greater homeworld, still unexplored, for the most part? How much are we ready to venture… into the future? You be the judge.
Dreams….Seen Them Vanish At Dawn
Dreams….Seen Them Vanish At Dawn Click Here to Purchase This Saying as A Greeting Card
Alone with the stars / She is no longer afraid / Free now from the web / Heaven awaits her magic / Her lover waiting in trust Alone with t…
Inspired by the beautiful artwork of Lorenzo Castello. Thank you for the inspiration Lorenzo! / Butterfly
A clear blue light precedes her trance / where she’s reborn amid her dreams, / while floating up, her mind a stream; / her wraithlike gown …
a dreamy dreamer’s, 8 syl italian sonnet. / Another one for the dreamers / and intergalactic humans. / you know who you are.:)
Defined by lips and passion’s voice, / one’s garden grows or rots – your choice each spoken thought will rise, traverse / and swirl abou…
thoughts are things. / period.
The stillness of the planet’s surface was deafening. Unruffled by wind or the crashing of waves, an eerie ringing filled my ears. I gazed…
This piece was written for the ! Creative Writing and Poetry ! challenge “Halloween Themed”. “Submit a short story or poem of no more than 300 words on the theme of halloween or just something spooky in general. If it’s a story, it can be a true one, or a fictional one, but make it interesting.” I did a different take on what we would describe as “spooky” or “scary” in today’s society and the future. Because of this I chose something a little less conventional as the source of my tale of terror. Our knowledge of the universe is growing everyday but still we know but a fraction of what’s really out there. New discoveries are being made constantly but we are only able to observe to a certain limit. This story is fictional, based perhaps in the future. A little tale of the thoughts of a ship’s captain, stranded in the midst of an endless universe, alone and unknowing of her location in time or space. A discussion of the wonders of the universe and just how terrifying and incomprehensive it is.
…wild cherry blossoms / nor still of the moonless night / hear any echoes – / above the weight of the earth / the hollowing coo of doves / ...
this is a tanka I wrote to go with the photograph my daughter Ava Skye took of herself the other day…it is posted under ART and on my homepage if you care to check that out, too. :) / she did a darn good job.
when I close my eyes / stilling the whale from breeching – / dust of all that is Kristin Reynolds 10 31 2009
a haiku on breathing, stilling, and what I see behind my eyes while doing so… / it is a remarkable thing.
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