Sunday, June 11, 2006

Water

Inspired by the writings that grow in Straw Houses

the wind comes

and leaves her leaning one way.

fruits fall,

roots dig in and water sooths the pain.

She runs and falls and loves

and sits,

then sees the memories of laughter

and me.

time cannot evaporate the memories

of what never was.

8 comments:

Jozee said...

Oh my gosh, soooo beautiful.

You eat both the Snoballs.
I'm completely satisfied after reading that.

Yummy, yummy, thoughts.

Thanks for the compliment and the hook up. :-)

RocksAndChairs said...

have you ever noticed how some poetry looks as if people put random words together?

Unknown said...

Josie—Thanks. It feels good to know something I wrote can also touch someone else with their own special thoughts. It’s much better feedback then I get riding through the neighborhood on my Farley and watching people flip me off for setting off their car alarms.--Hey, you hooked my hook!!! :)

rock--Yeah, I have noticed that too. I think it's like contemporary new age poetry or something. Like when rappers jam, they just put it out there. We can coin it “poetry jam.” Everyone can be a poet this way, I guess art is in the eye of the creator, and the beholder has to work at it sometimes to see it. Ha ha. I’m remembering the time I visited an art museum and saw a large canvass painted solid red with a blue line down the middle. I guess that was art? Somebody was sitting there sketching it. There were two guards watching over it. And a damn tour group was discussing the thing for 10 minutes??? I still don't get it. The bottle of catsup sitting here on my desk has more art than that thing!

Theresa said...

why ketchup?

Jozee said...

Mmmm, 2 cents. Art is an expression of a person's feelings. Perhaps art that doesn't speak to you isn't wrong or bad art. Perhaps it just doesn't speak to you.

If Warhol were still alive,we might have seen your catsup bottle as a painting.

I would've loved to have seen some of the silly labels that Heinz had a few years back reproduced. *<(:-)

Mama Mouse said...

That was beautiful ... a story so simple and yet involved that it leaves pictures on the soul. Thank you for sharing it.

Erin O'Brien said...

eep! squee! flipple!

I love Vince and Josie!

Happy happy happy!

Unknown said...

Me—Short answer = Why not?

Me—Long answer = Believe me, you don’t want to know.

Josie—I can dig it! Like my nephew’s tattoos originally meant nothing to me. But after he explained who did it, the history of the style, and the meaning of the images, then all of a sudden it became a beautiful masterpiece. It was art to him, and even though the expression of his feelings did not immediately transmit to me and immerse me into the same vision of the tattoo as he saw; it was still good art none-the-less. His designs were mainly for him as creator, and a select few who readily could understand, or was given the keys to understanding as I was given.

But that’s not to say ‘bad art’ and insincere phony art is non-existent. // I’ll settle for a poster of a ketchup bottle, preferably from the 1950’s.

mm—Thank you, that’s a very nice comment. Now I can’t help to believe ‘commentary’ is an art form too. Maybe 21st Century blogging has brought on the New Renaissance eh? But doesn’t that mean we’re in for some dark periods? Terrible thought. Someone cast this thought from my mind…

erin— I truly like it when you’re happy. And your force is too strong for me to reckon with. But beware; I think Josie Wales’ grace is just as strong, for she is one that dwells in the house of love.