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Monday, September 14, 2009. One should rather die than be betrayed. There is no deceit in death. It delivers precisely what it has promised. Betrayal is the willful slaughter of hope. Inane chatter, back slapping. Observant, I stand afar. To join the cyber circle. The mainspring of my heart. Let you lead me to the dance.
Art, poetry, love, death, kids, war, monsters. Work for Film and TV. Portrait of Fernanda and Notes on Process. So I should have know better that to write and publish now. I have separated out the con-jumbled issues into two post. This, the first, is on art, Fernanda, her marvelous life, her umbrella full of sunshine, and my marvelous, forgotten pink painting. In the next post will address the discovery of liver cancer and my upcoming need for a transplant.
Words about writing, singing, living and loving. Flame and friendship, gifts and giving. An instinct known to all the living. I have hung my lute on the wall. And tied it with a green ribbon.
Just a Mom, with a Camera, an Adventurous heart and a Pen. Capturing it all for the world to see. Thursday, March 13, 2014. To have someone that gives their all for you;. Not only by saying it. Someone who can put a smile on your face. Without even being in the same room. Who cares for you sometimes more than you ever. Dreamt of caring for yourself. Someone who fills you with motivation. When your will has settled. Who always has your best interest at heart.
A poetic approach to the struggles in AfriKa. The Journey Begins Here! Is a blog for upcoming African poets to share their work with the world. The blog features poems on Africa, life, nature, friendship, Love,. and everything that people care about. This year, the best poems featured on this blog will be. Compiled and published in a single poetry book and the. Proceeds from sold copies shall be donated to charity within Africa. To join as a poet.
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This web page poetryfriends.blogspot.com states the following, "A Collection of Really Good Poetry." We saw that the webpage said " Saturday, September 18, 2010." It also said " Poem by Linda Leedy Schneider. My Hands Speak After 25 Years Paris was served on a fresh platewith honey on the side,and I took its hand. My left hand says this is true. I call my right, the one that thoughtwe should have married the doctor. It touches my hair as the phone rings. Why havent you called? 8221;my husband of twenty-five years asks. My right hand cups my right breast,the one that always tightens first."SEEK SIMILAR DOMAINS
Poetryfromafar-Poems by Martha Little, paintings by Matug Aborawi. I have a painter friend who is an immigrant from North Africa, Matug Aborawi. There is something alarming and compelling about his paintings, and also expectant and hopeful. Can there be so many arms.
Those who do not believe in anyone thing,. Weakness shaking to the very core. Wednesday, 10 March 2010. Friday, 26 February 2010. The people of the book,.
I wish you had been here when I had my first child. And I wish you could be here now to see her pretty smile. I wish you could be here when I need to call my Mommy. And I wish you had been here when my baby first called me Mommy. And I wish you could be here now so she could make you laugh. Would you laugh to see my baby driving me insane.
Poems inspired by or about the sea. On January 19, 2016 by Ina. In all the blood the dawn had shed. Before we lived, ongoing waves. Will be there after, you and me were. Only walking by the shore at times. Like so many have done and will do. The red waves gave birth. Yet, now I am alone. The murmur of the earth is just for me. In this hour in this moment. Time has washed itself before my feet.
Saturday, August 14, 2010. Sunday, July 18, 2010. I peeled away the masks that I have hidden behind for years. The mask of guilt,. The mask of shame,. I need you to see me for who I really am. The inner part of me. My soul so desperately seeks. I peel away all the things that I have never desired to be.