He reminded me of an old tree full of whorls and gnarls and knots in wood.
he could hear love humming…
I know these woods won’t cough you up, / Shame my face with my own blood, / Slash my face with thick red love, / Scream your name, your name…
I am a monster and pity all who undertake the notion they can run because it only fuels my lust and I love the animal I have become.
Made for the Change comptetion in Full Moon Rising /
Go on. Open it, sweet one. I dare you.
i’ve been reading virigina woolf and emily dickinson lately. Her breast is fit for pearls, / But I was not a `Diver’ - / Her brow is fit for thrones / But I have not a crest. / Her heart is fit for home - / I – a Sparrow – build there / Sweet twigs and twine / My perennial nest. - Emily Dickinson there were a few things that inspired these words on this blustery rainy day: Writing Workshop’s Exercise Four white witch, black heart / Mariposa, / I bet no-one’s called you that since we lived in our shack by the sea with olive trees and peeling green shutters; when you twirled fire, I painted the sun and all we needed was lemons, salt, and Jose Cuervo. / I wouldn’t miss your launch. / Where was he today? / I don’t care about him. / Here I am. / Does he know you howl at quarter moons? Does he know you drew constellations in black ink on my skin? Do you remember us… cocooned in our chrysalis of tangled salty dreams and coffee-creamed skin? / Your words betray you, my love. Why is your book full of love letters to a girl who wears my middle name and has a scar along her jawline, just like me? / I know that when you come out to your car, you’ll search for this scrap of paper under your windscreen wipers. You’ll hate yourself for it but that’s what you’ll do. / Here I am. copyright © 2008, Holly Ringland. a few days after writing this piece, i stumbled across leith o’malley and his space here on redbubble. when i came upon the mesmerising black butterfly. it was like finding my words and Grace’s heart freshly plucked and arranged in a vase of charcoal and magic.
My skin doesn’t seem to have any resistance at all.
Its midnight and I’m alone / Walking out into the woods with no light / I am guided by not fearing the unknown / For to long I have been afr…
Look at this inky black velveteen night, / Sliding through the branches to strangle the contrite, / You. Press your cheek to the cool bark…
His shadow had a different voice under moon. It was cold, like the light that cast it. “What is it you want?” his shadow asked. “I …
#3 / #1
A collection of images from the old Pencil Pine forest at the Mt. Field N.P ~ Tasmania ~ Australia..
Rise again the day is young / and we shall dance in the Fretternear Woods
WOW! / I have found another utterly stunning artist new to the bubble / May I introduce you to Fiona Jack / Her photo of Fretternear Woods inspired this poetry faster than I could twig what I was writing – I thought I was going to say “Perfect capture of frost in the early morning” or something but tada! there was this poem! / Sometimes it scares me when writing takes over! :O) / Go check out this lady’s fantastic artwork – this photo by the way is the only one she has in her folio :O) / Enjoy! :O) FEATURED!! In the Melbourne & Victoria Group
There is a special place / Where Angels show their face / They dance as they should / In the Bluebell Wood / When in the soft breeze / The tre…
Thank you, Hilary!!! / Please check out my friend Hilarydougill’s other awesome artwork & writings on the / RB /
The dumbfounded looks may have put off a lesser mortal, but Explorer was not to be thwarted. ‘There. That’s how we fly to where the s…
Chapter 2 of the RB Gang’s Adventure Horace provides the necessary help to allow Explorer to demonstrate her fantastic plan for getting to where the sun rises.. but the RB Gang are less than convinced..
The boy closed his eyes before stepping into the forest. He knew what darkness awaited, and did not want it to seep beneath his lids. The…
Thereupon Zarathustra walked again for two hours, trusting the path and the light of the stars, for he was a practiced night-walker and loved to look in the face of all sleepers. The valley of the sleepers is a term borrowed from Friedrich Nietzsche’s ‘Zarathustra.’ #4 / #3 / #2 / #1
The trees close in thick reaching high to the sky / careful the copses that entrap you
I found an Irish artist orouke who’s work the woods drew me into my poetry again / as they say you cant see the woods for the trees and at the moment I am feeling a bit hemmed in by trunks! / Thank you O’Rouke for reminding me of my peaceful Irish ancestry. / Chookas! ♥ FEATURED!! In the All things Poetic, Artistic, Philosophical Group.
Oh you mall walkers / go back to you’re paved protected places / you who walk to look good / don’t know what around you IS good / you speed r…
After a 2 hour hike in Jackson Park forested area inside Atchison Kansas…I encountered at least 3 different groups of people…2 who were doing the ‘mall hiking’ and the 3rd with a baby in a stroller and 3 giggly women who squealed every few min’s at a bug/snake/weird plant/mud….....
NSFW
The Water Is Light…
A original Haiku I wrote about water and life
...There is something marvelous about his knowing smile and beckoning eyes, / It’s as if they say “come closer…if you dare to see such a s…
A fantasy poem about a magical man and a allegory about inspiration, creativity…and the source of it all.
... I’ve decided / I don’t want / To be Water He never gets to rest …
More understanding
The woods were blacker than the space behind his eyes. The boy could not see his shadow, there was no light to cast it. “Are you ther…
#1 / #2
Exposes animal abuse which is everywhere. Many ways to help these innocent animals. Animal adoption. Touching, heartwarming.
Ridge was adopted from an animal shelter in Bangor, Maine in 2000. After spending the first three years of his life in utter terror. Many atrocious acts were committed against this sweet dog. His life with us was one of mutual respect, loyalty, and love. He came to us as a very neurotic, frightened young dog. I like to think he left with a sense of pride in the wonderful and handsome dog he became.
IN THE WOODS, where few tread / Is where two lovers met / Afraid of family and of ties / They met together, amid many lies / They kissed …
Thank you, Carlotta!!!! / Please check out my friend Carlotta Peacock’s other awesome artwork & writings / on the RB /
Oh Come my spirits of the tree / And be a vision unto me / Show yourselves, I want to know / Are you friend, or are you foe. I caught a g…
my little stories / tell their secrets….
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