Thursday, May 12, 2011

Far



There once was a man
On a solitary beach
A man who lost his plan
Life was far above his reach
He was a sad man
All youth gone from his face
Is he a bad man?
Or one who couldn’t keep the pace?

A Superman
Flying through the sky
Indifferent look in his eyes
A Clever disguise
For his heart was crushed
By a damsel in distress
She broke him down
With a soft Caress


So take me far
From the land of the broken
To the place
Where loving words are spoken
**
I want to go there
I walk on the decks, walk down the halls over and over.
Every day.
Some days I called for my family, but I gave that up long a go.
I sit down for dinner but the waiter never comes.
Sometimes I strain my ear for the band but I don't hear them play,
haven't for years.
My slippers wore out long ago and I can't slide my hand along the once smooth railings.
They are rusted and creatures sit crusted on them.
Sometimes I cry and sometimes I close my eyes and listen to the silence.
I don't feel the cold but I know it is cold,
I wish I felt it.
I walk the decks with bare feet, my nightgown grazing my legs.
I gave up on the idea long ago that I am alive...
that I survived.
But why am I the only one who walks the decks of this ship
so far underwater?
...
Ninety two years I have walked the decks, but I am peaceful now, it is my ship, my water. The rust and coral does not hurt my feet.
Maybe I am a part of the sea.


















I don't remember being me....








Creative Writing


Art. Artistic expression is very personal. If you want to know someone, to know their passions or desires, look to their art. Find their artistic outlet and study it; the lyrics of a song, the subject in a picture, the style, medium, or subject of a painting, or the story or line in poetry or literature. Looking at a creation, one can find the deepest heart cry of the artist.
I love that writing can be either completely transparent or so complicated it is nearly in code. A successful piece of art conveys some emotion that the writer or artist was feeling at the time, or an emotion they want the audience to feel about their subject. Like a song that makes you cry or want to dance, a line of poetry that brings laughter or quiet to a room, a painting that takes your breath away and you can’t think of why.
I was looking at a color stain painting. It was just color, that was all. As I looked at the splotches and squares of color, warmth flowed over me. The artist was able to share his feelings with me without a word or even a clear picture. I have never seen or met the artist and he was able to share an emotion, a feeling with me.
In that lies the amazing power of art. Sometimes the content of a poem has nothing to do with the way it makes you feel when you read it. The tone conflicts with the words as if the writer was conflicted and confused and they expressed it onto paper.
It never ceases to astound me. There I am, feeling what they felt years later and miles apart from them. Sometimes the feeling is so subtle that you only vaguely notice, other times it fully pierces your consciousness and you are rushed by a passion that was in the hand of the artist as they created.
            In the immortal words of Picasso, “Everyone wants to understand art. Why not try to understand the song of a bird? Why does one love the night, flowers, everything around one, without trying to understand them?" Why try to understand art? Art is to be felt, not understood. It is wonderful to be an artist, because, by creating something, a song, a painting, a poem, a sculpture, I am sharing myself. I am taking an inexpressible emotion and releasing it into the air. 
            Writing is an art form. With it you can do with words what artists do visually. This is what draws me so much to creative writing. It is the words part of the art work. Being an artist sometimes a story will come from my art and sometimes my art comes from a story. So my writing and my art go hand in hand. From this comes my passion for writing that nearly rivals my passion for drawing.