Winged, Poetry & Art Photo's

By Winged - About Me - E-mail this page - Add to My Favorites - Add to Blog List - See other blogs in Poetry

Friday, April 25, 2008

White thoughts of white birds, white flowers and white stems...

My white teeth glowing in the dark of the night, when I'm shuffling through less than colorful thoughts, I'm thinking about how the world would be without colors, I wouldn't know if I were winning or losing with a deck of white cards, I won't know when to stop, to slow or go, I think about a white... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by Winged at 8:39 AM | add or view comments (5) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry

Thursday, April 24, 2008

Old Man Leaning...holding on to a black cloud...

Old Man Leaning, artist unknown, Mexican, clay I think a lot about our men arguing over who should die and who should live, I think about how they worry about the sky dropping fire and brimstone on them and all they love, I think about how they end up sore and bleeding standing on corners, I always... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by Winged at 3:21 PM | add or view comments (2) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry

Three women and a turtle...

I remember other springs when I fell in love and my own life changed in the middle of it's flowering, that was a long time ago, now each sping for me brings the long-nosed god of rain, whipping the air into a potion of desire for us all, that which is brown becomes green again, that which is slow... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by Winged at 8:21 AM | add or view comments (3) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Mentioning of the Souls...If I get up one more time in the dark...

Hermes Fastening his Sandal (c.300B.C.) Lysippus you will have to cover me up completely I will be shaking so much from the cold. And if my voice trembles as I go from room to room you will have to leave your own luxury to see if I am just moaning or already talking to the dead. If you come into the... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by Winged at 7:39 AM | add or view comments (4) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry

Monday, April 21, 2008

Even though I was not the fairest to gaze upon, my smoldering aura...

embodied the holy, unholy and the human form; I opened my exalted head and body to to Pablo Picasso who painted me in many ways; I summoned the most evil, known as Satan, for a few hot unholy days, then joined Moses and the Greatest Mother of them all, until I tired of their perpetual sermons On the... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by Winged at 5:04 PM | add or view comments (1) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry

Lord, Forgive A Spirit...

So what shall we do about this angel, growing dizzy every time he climbs a ladder, crying over his old poems. I walk out into the garden and there he is, watering the lilies and studying the digitalis. He is talking to his own invisible heart; he is leaking blood. The sun shines on him all day long... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by Winged at 1:04 PM | add or view comments (0) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry

Money, grammar and endless love...

My brain has been working overtime, thinking about money, grammar and lost love, what shoes I should wear, how to eat and how much not, I don't know what I'll do, if my Yorkie won't stop barking, soon, I drag my tired brain, from place to place, dreaming about justice and injustice, and gorging... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by Winged at 10:51 AM | add or view comments (0) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry

Sunday, April 20, 2008

Blossoms praying while they fall...

there's nothing as sweet as falling for a little girl in her gardenous world, she loves the sight of us sprawling all over the lawn, pink, white and yellow, some of us pierced through the heart by a stem so green, but like children and her, we must eventually be set free by the wind, to take the... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by Winged at 3:32 PM | add or view comments (4) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry

I remember him, the one who got away, I see him in various...

shapes riding on the high-flying clouds, or in between, dropping a sad dry mist on me every once in a while, One, two, three.. jump into childhood, one two three...trip through adult love, Three, two, one, fall into old age, alone, Maybe, he misses me, too? I look for him in spring, winter and fall,... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by Winged at 3:12 PM | add or view comments (0) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry

What is a poet?

My own sculpture, 34" approx, clay, "Passion" I have been under the weather and have neglected my blogs and apologize to you who read me. Words sometimes do not come easy when you get so far down. I thought I'd rerun a couple of my very first blogs for those who missed them. This was my very first... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by Winged at 11:10 AM | add or view comments (0) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry

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About this Blog

The Passage of time. Down here on the third rock from the Sun, self-expression is our genius and we must not be talked out of it.I enjoy using pictures and writing to speak for me. I especially enjoy letting others revisit their own lives when reading mine and looking at my photo's.

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