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DPChallenge Forums >> Side Challenges and Tournaments >> March - A month of Words and Illustrations
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02/29/2008 02:27:30 PM · #1
Please upload your March images for The Illustrated Word here.
02/29/2008 03:56:15 PM · #2
some words to feed your images:

Ghosts

Something moves the reeds,
nudges your shirt off the porch rail.

A black bird on the pier.
I think of telling you.
It's gone.

I feel your hand on my back
and expecting your face at my shoulder,
I turn my head.

I have never been to this inlet before,
but I have seen this water.

September 9, 2001
.
.
.
.

Beautiful

I want for an instant or two
to be beautiful, to say for one day
I lay with daisies and my hair
roiled their petals in that sunlit soup.

I want to walk on clouds, in the summer
of some girl¹s dream to have wings,
in every feather a delicate abstraction
of color, a slight curl, a secret code,

and then to rise like orange ashes
threatening the carpet, to unfurl
like a fear she must face, to paint
in her brave eyes my finest picture.

1998

.
.
.
.

How Cold It Must Be

How cold it must be
not loving me.
I bet it freezes you.
I bet you mutter
strange prayers at night
you don't even understand
and watch the clouds
of your breath
like they're angry ghosts,
like you shut your tiny door
on a terrible storm
and you wonder
"Who's knocking?
Who's knocking?"
and you're too scared
to let him in.
I bet you want to grab your knees
and stop the shivering.
How cold it must be,
being you,
not loving me.

January 4, 2000

02/29/2008 04:02:01 PM · #3
Desire

I saw you with the eyes of a scarecrow.
The sweet top of a cornstalk toppled
and a magnificent bird,
black as my eyes,
descended

1998

.
.
.

Falcon Hunting

It flashes like down on a falcon's wing,
her hair, when it feels my skin,
like a clutch before we hit the ground.

1989

.
.
.

Flamenca

She with the falling hair,
falling on crystal eyes,
found the moon dancing
on top of broken glass
and turned with him all night.

6/28/99

.
.
.

Love

Love is in the eyes
and on the skin.
Love does not speak.
Love rushes in.

Blushes and blinks,
barbarous bliss,
love begins and ends
with a kiss.

1998

.
.
.

My Friend Johnny Dance

I would give it all to see
my friend Johnny dance:
my little cracked heart
for a twirl of his hands
and his ridiculous teeth
like empty dice: no chance.

All to see Johnny dance,
all to see the bob of his head,
the peck of his partner,
that crazy bird, ears red,
staring inside the music,
eyes fixed like the dead.

1997

Message edited by author 2008-02-29 16:02:24.
02/29/2008 04:07:19 PM · #4
I have an old image and a poem that I wrote to go with it. I just have to adjust it a bit and possibly overlay them.

02/29/2008 04:45:54 PM · #5
Desire

I saw you with the eyes of a scarecrow.
The sweet top of a cornstalk toppled
and a magnificent bird,
black as my eyes,
descended


1998

Love

Love is in the eyes
and on the skin.
Love does not speak.
Love rushes in.

Blushes and blinks,
barbarous bliss,
love begins and ends
with a kiss.

1998


GOD - those are is wonderful.
02/29/2008 04:57:14 PM · #6
poems and pictures what a combo

here is a randomn poem I wrote awhile ago I used to write alot

I hear horns drifting in the cold wet air
the humming of engines followed by a chirp
drip drip the secounds slide to the left
nothing beats a hot steamin oatmeal pie
for the current weather conditions report to shut the god damn door cried the mother
deep in thought sitting in a chair watching the air drift with flow
tomorrow she will remain unscathed by the burdens of walking on two legs while watching not to step inoto the angles these are key to constructing the parafoil reverb condenser sideswitching violently before GOD who shall
exsist together with
apples and pears side by side in the same bowl perhaps a basket she said while standing there ever so slightly with a cool glass of liquid
paraenthases eating apples tearing the red skin from the sweet soft substance to laugh with delight about the past days gone by like clouds endlessly driftin toward the horizon and eventually away falling to the ground in thousands of droplets hitting the ground in multitudes of laughing apple eatin fools
why is this the way the words where watched
from water at wensday night intergalatic bingo night for 5.99 you can play all night the games will only cost you a twenty five cents a card
the payoffs can sometimes be anywhere from 40 dollars up to about three hundred and fifty beans
like frozen burritos sizzling in the microwave next to the wall
now can you see me i know you can hear me and now that i am here could you just take a moment of your time to fill out this request to delay the forebarence jimmy jam e's
now by the water by night
mist dances in visionary traces of love and silence for the hour's that be could a little sky
if he tried to make that last jump then he must have been pretty tired because lets just say he didn't make it to the other side and was left broken lost somewhere in the middle of it all
besides the fact that money is made of paper and passed around from people to machine to people again
how can I explain that which makes no sense or has any perception of reality based fiction due to the fact that their is no light in complete darkness and all things exsist because they eat a little furry reptile for breakfast instantly transformed into butterflies that dance in circles around my head distracting my visual perception based reality
Plastic formed from compounds and equal distribution of atoms raise in unison from the start
02/29/2008 05:46:08 PM · #7
What an amazing idea, thank you so much Judy!

Don't know how much I'll get around to shooting, but, what I'm getting from this is something I haven't felt in months - there are pictures in my mind forming as I read those lines, pictures I'd really like to somehow bring into the world... That's what got me hooked to photography in the first place, and I was starting to wonder if I'd lost it forever.

So, to our poets - please keep the poems coming, you've certainly inspired me. They're beautiful. And I'll see what I can do to capture what they make me feel.

Oh, and someone give Raish, skewsme and Bear_Music a shout and get them in on this :) Need... Poetry...
02/29/2008 08:12:42 PM · #8
Originally posted by purpleflutterby13:

W

Oh, and someone give Raish, skewsme and Bear_Music a shout and get them in on this :) Need... Poetry...


Bear_Music is on the list. Please feel free to invite the others and anyone else you can think of. ;~)
02/29/2008 08:20:56 PM · #9
This is developing differently than bear had expected. He is cogitating, as best bears can cogitate, and will weigh in shortly...

R.
02/29/2008 11:01:49 PM · #10
With tongue firmly in cheek, I present the first of my Illustrated Words in this fascinating category:
The Seeker


the story line: The seeker gazed deeply into the kaleidoscope of colors presented by the sun’s rays as it sank below the horizon. “Dare I ask this question?” The seeker mused. “Will this quest be successful? Is this bounty of color an omen?”
The answer seemed to appear as a burst of brilliant light: “Yes, seeker, your quest will succeed – but only for 31 days—and those days only in March Two Thousand and Eight! No longer! Heed this!”
The horizon became dark. There was no more light.
03/01/2008 12:15:47 AM · #11
In The Still of The Night



In the still of the night
As I gaze from my window
At the moon in its flight
My thoughts all stray to you

In the still of the night
All the world is in slumber
All the times without number
Darling when I say to you

Do you love me, as I love you
Are you my life to be, my dream come true
Or will this dream of mine fade out of sight
Like the moon growing dim, on the rim of the hill
In the chill, still, of the night
03/01/2008 12:33:29 AM · #12


When she spoke I heard a mournful sea
lament the awful distance that it spanned,
but my betrothed never sang to me.

Her kisses she presented gratefully
as gladly on the altar she did stand,
but when she spoke I heard a mournful sea.

Her finest days were mine, she did agree,
but the secret lyrics her heart scanned
my betrothed never sang to me.

Her laughter set the dismal twilight free,
night's mystery uncovered by her hand,
but when she spoke I heard a mournful sea.

Her body rose from bed like destiny.
I sat before her, keen to understand,
but my betrothed never sang to me.

I thought sadness finds a melody,
and something vast would break through any band,
yet when she spoke I heard a mournful sea
that my betrothed never sang to me.
03/01/2008 02:30:10 AM · #13
03/01/2008 03:40:03 AM · #14
[thumb]653213[/thumb]
03/01/2008 04:53:05 AM · #15
Dance Me to the End of Love - Leonard Cohen

Don, your words are beautiful. thank you, i feel blessed to have read them.

(blessed in the pagan way, of course)
03/01/2008 05:37:58 AM · #16
Replaced with a post on page three of the thread . . .

Message edited by author 2008-03-03 11:48:11.
03/01/2008 07:08:10 AM · #17
I like pictures and I like poems but, (here comes the obligatory simile/metaphor) like guinness and champagne...

Ever tried guinness and champagne? This metaphor would work for irish coffee, too.

Draught guinness comes signed, sealed and delivered in a keg. In order for it to be served well the pipes have to be clean and the coupling head and the fount head (the two ends of the pipe) need to be cleaned at least daily. The more you sell the better it is. It is the ultimate expression of the brewer's art and while some say it may be the drink of the gods, I prefer to think it's the sort of thing for which the gods might reasonably relinquish their immortality, just so they can indulge in it. The quality of champagne is pretty much decided before it's poured out of the bottle. It varies, though. Bubbly is bubbly, but really good champagne is truly wonderful stuff. I hate seeing sportsmen waste it when they win things.
The mixture of guinness and champagne, also known as black velvet, is very nice indeed and it also gets you drunk very efficiently. However, really good black velvet is achieved only with really good guinness and really good champagne. Why on earth would one take two such delectable ways to ruin ones health and impurify either of them? OK, to get drunk, but you get my drift. For the irish coffee parallel, think of a particularly good whisky and a really good cup of coffee. Aren't they better beside each other than mixed? And yes, the way to make the best irish coffee is with the best quality in all ingredients.

So there's the analogy. I don't think I have ever seen a combination of picture and lyric wherein the whole were greater than the sum of its parts. If either were excellent the other would be almost certain to detract.

I don't have any problem spitting out words though. You're all welcome to use them as you see fit :-)

Herzog

I note to you dear
Guardian / jailer
(as i might address myself at times)
Having too big a heart
Can bring about
O, sympathy, anguish
Peacefully introspective
Anger – self destructive –
At heartlessness.
What credit
Crazed outpourings
Of madly damaged
Sadly crippled brain
Suggesting you should better be
As poetic?

You know
Good guys always lose.

Listen
All seeing eye
Mafioso governor
Of planet earth
I know i know too much
It has already driven me mad
I DO feel betrayed
By your apparent ignorance
Of the cosmic crime perpetrated
By human endeavour
Against the awesome beauty
I shudder to think
I tremble
I fear to touch
I would only embrace
And then ah

For sure relinquish
Lose forever
This
Your illusory kingdom
That is my one touchstone
Even held as i am by
A nylon cord about my throat
A white-hot stiletto against my jugular vein
A capsule of heroin about to explode in my blood
And a miniature recording next to my eardrum
Of the seven sequences of nervous breakdown
I use i a lot of times, eye
(eye has two i's confusing vison)
It was easy; i said
Get fucked, eye
And i became eye
And able to see i to i
But then eye gave me his portfolio
And the keys to heaven and hell
Saying: "where you will find the locks, and how to use them i do not know.
But these keys, certainly
Are of your own creation."

PSR 1974
03/01/2008 07:47:12 AM · #18
Dulce et Decorum Est
03/01/2008 07:59:31 AM · #19
Originally posted by Bruce_the_Robert:

On second thought, I've thought better of this . . . perhaps just the words for now (though I hesitate even in this given the caliber of wordsmiths otherwise playing here):

Flow

I remember in images, not words
smoked on racks, fire made by the tension
that comes from breath and from sound.

Washed out colors sliding into one another,
simple and drastic, insistently pulling
scraps from the grasp of time.

With artless apologies, not understanding
the intricacies of rushing to wait,
birds float on the winds of belief.


wheres your photo, i liked it a lot!
03/01/2008 08:01:54 AM · #20
love this!

Beautiful

I want for an instant or two
to be beautiful, to say for one day
I lay with daisies and my hair
roiled their petals in that sunlit soup.

I want to walk on clouds, in the summer
of some girl¹s dream to have wings,
in every feather a delicate abstraction
of color, a slight curl, a secret code,

and then to rise like orange ashes
threatening the carpet, to unfurl
like a fear she must face, to paint
in her brave eyes my finest picture.

1998
03/01/2008 08:28:00 AM · #21
Originally posted by goodman:

wheres your photo, i liked it a lot!


Thanks, there was something not quite right with it. Not wrong, but not quite right. And also not write. I will look again, see again, ponder, and we shall see what develops. Perhaps only shadows.
03/01/2008 08:32:26 AM · #22
I am WAY beyond my depth here (I keep to the shallow end) so I shall just watch and enjoy. Carry on... :-)
03/01/2008 08:52:54 AM · #23
Originally posted by Melethia:

I am WAY beyond my depth here (I keep to the shallow end) so I shall just watch and enjoy. Carry on... :-)


Oh no, Deb. You must jump in with both feet, like a lemming as it follows his contemporary off of the cliff!!! Come in, the water's fine. ;~)
03/01/2008 08:57:35 AM · #24
oops, sorry, I did this twice. DUH

Message edited by author 2008-03-01 08:59:03.
03/01/2008 08:58:43 AM · #25


I'm not as melancholy as the image portrays. Although I have felt that way at times in my life.

Also makes me think of the song:

all by myself
don't wanna live all by myself anymore........
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