I feel it smoothly, gliding freely,
Liquid fluidity surging.
Not a fraction of too much friction,
An undulating path followed effortlessly.
Movement and balance allowing continuous flow.
A sense of harmony as the lubrication guides easily.
Embracing depth with no distraction.
No tension felt as if all melts with fluid energy.
A transition of like particles melding without abrasive motion.
A sleek silky transition is accomplished.
Liquid fluidity surges.
The artist textured an abstract artwork to the canvas.
Bold gradient strokes, are a pivotal attraction adding to the ambience.
Light, and layered emotion captivate through transitions and bold contrasts.
The paint melts across the canvas, intersected by frivolous bubbles and a masterful juxtaposition of cracked and fluid textures.
Each element from the fractured patterns to the luminous flow of paint, contributes to a sense of wonder of movement.
The more I gaze into this painting the more I see the effects of lubrication.
Imagining the paint is still actively moving freely on the canvas to a degree.
In the land of spring where hope was born
it's gift - release of winter's hold.
The sun of summer lost its luster
following some how., days take a low bow,
streaked trials all but lost.
Now the days shorter than a lit match' dream.
a moment caught in light tho' weak, just a ray.
Dark hooded and clothed in a fallen snow,
Christmas always wished it just that way.
Hand sore from barbed wire's wretched greeting,
on a winter's walk I wandered on.
Pink glow of youth' robust cheek, sure of foot, still searching
time's meaning of So long.
My father's stride now recognized,
though stronger than in memory's glow..
intersected my own low stuttered step
printed before me in light gathering snow.
Will landscape of winter's white recall my feet,
as I walk the trail where foot steps converge again.
Years on, still hold my children's hands..
awed in perfect artistry of falling weight and wind.
Tell you once in awhile, while lookin' away..
just at a whisper when you're near,
thanks for bein' here..
Christmas always wished it just that way.
Infinity times infinity,
Hearts within hearts,
Souls intertwined within souls,
Circles never-ending,
Love never-ending,
Intersecting lines,
Intersecting hearts,
Forever in time,
Forever in space,
Never to be broken,
Never severed,
Promises kept, and,
Never broken,
Infinity times infinity,
Through time and space,
Our hearts and souls,
Begs that love never ends,
Circles within circles,
Lives within many lives,
Intersected through time and space,
For centuries past lives,
The infinity of our heart and soul,
Infinity times infinity.
I heard a black bird’s song today
He balanced high on a wire
His dark coat purple in reflection
His voice high and sweet
above the ocean’s roar and
the hum of traffic on the beachside highway
So pleasant, melodic,
not unlike a tune to be stolen by the Mockingbird
He called out so clear and soft
Was it a springtime love song?
A call for a mate only spoken at the end of winter?
Or had I never heard the delicate song
of a creature whose like surround me
as I walk through the grass each day?
Hello, he cried
So far above me on that wire
in a moment we shared together
as our lives intersected
for just that instant
in a departing winter
and an awaking spring.
There was a moment
when the afternoon seemed to pause
as if it was holding its breath,
suspended briefly between
the letting go and the drawing in.
Thoughts came to a rest
and the wind which had before
played in the folds of a curtain,
was suddenly still.
If it had remained like this
for a while longer, I could have
glimpsed what was hiding there
in that stillness, heard what was
weaved through the strands
of silence which had intersected
my existence, there in that moment,
before time drew its breath again
and I fell back into myself,
back into movement
and noise. Now, I am
not even sure if it matters.
ANGEL IN THE MORNING
While washing the dishes this morning, I looked at the sky
through the kitchen window for the awesome, magnificent
view of the morning blue sky with streaks of white clouds.
With sun shining bright, the sky was like a canvas with blue
background with spectacular long thin horizontal strokes
of white with the exception of the one at my far right.
Frozen and stunned, I was mesmerized with the streaks
of white clouds of long thin horizontal stroke, like open
arms, intersected by a longer and thicker vertical one.
The vertical one had a circle shape on top, like a face
and it was wider at the end, like somebody wearing a
long skirt and I became more and more bewildered.
The more I looked; it was like an Angel watching me, so
I gazed at my left and most of the strokes of white clouds
disappeared or reshaped like a majestic glacier by the sea.
I glanced at my right; wherein there was no reshaping.
After a while, the face started getting blurry and then the
rest of it, while I was still staring at it in awe, dumbfounded!
Did that happen? Or did I just imagine it? What did I see?
12/14/21 Sweet Lady Jane
Poem as depicted here.
___________________________________________________________
CIRCUMLOCUTION was inspired by the poem, Him & Her Intersection, by Brian Bilston. In the 2015 Great British Write Off, he won the poetry prize for this poem disguised in a Venn diagram. My interpretation of the intersection poem scans differently to his as the intersected part is to be read in a loop, as suggested by the title.
The Venn diagram poem is an interesting intersecting visual poem written inside a two-circle Venn diagram.
It could be written on any subject where a contrasting viewpoint is key to a successful intersection poem. The idea is for the two outer sections (the opposing views) to be read independently taking the intersection into account, for example, xxxxxxxx X / X xxxxxx (the lines don’t have to be of an equal length.) This intersected piece ‘X’ should flow in a logical statement from top to bottom—I aimed for imagistic prose.
West Virginia, my beloved home state
East of the Mississippi
South of the Mason-Dixon Line
Thirty-Fifth State of the Union. *
Verdant fields and vast woodlands
Intersected by broad, rushing rivers,
Resplendent with towering mountains.
Gem of tourists and outdoor adventurers,
Individualism and independence prized,
National treasure
In the heartland of the
Appalachian Mountain region.
Written June 20, 2021, West Virginia’s 158th birthday
[*West Virginia was made a state by proclamation of
President Abraham Lincoln on June 20, 1863. It is the
only state created by a presidential proclamation.]
Hold the Bold Bouquet of Life
Keep it Well Protected
Collect The Flowered Moments
Of Your Spaces Intersected
With Outstretched Arms
In Whispered Voices
Find Your Dreams
Make Your Choices
Like Moonbeams Kissing Stars
On Twilight Beaches
Fill Your Empty Jars
With Clinging Peaches
Lose Yourself to Love
No Words Can Rhyme
and
All Your Jars Will Overflow
With Flowers For All Time
Force you to finish
Stealing moments
From your memory bank
Once I’m done moaning
Branding my nightmares
I’m collecting scars
Like toothpicks
In my heart
Salt licking wounds
Pulling my sweet tooth
Think it’s going to keep me away
But I still have the taste for you
It’s still too soon to honor you
My mind’s still fighting
Trying to wash away the residue
But I can’t stop thinking you’ll pull though
They warned me I’d lose me
That I’d have to scrub away your imprint
Drain my veins of your excitement
Clothe my soul with what you left of it
I want to stop the train
Before it rails off its tracks
Build a bolder to withstand the pain
I can pile my problems in heaping stacks
I want to save the magic
The memories I keep safe
Still telling myself it wasn’t all a trick
We just intersected at the right time and place
I was traveling along my life line,
when mine line intersected with a peculiar guy,
In a time and a place,that was not unfamiliar to me.
He stared at his reflection in a mirror, and chanted,
“Me,My,I.”
This was a peculiar sight,
so I couldn’t help but pry, “Are you all right ?”
He replied, “My life line has taken some sever curves and Steep dives !”
I felt compassion for this peculiar Guy’s plight , and had to pry,
“Have you considered inviting God to help you straighten out the sever curves and steep dives in your life ?”
He replied, " Yes,every time I look into a mirror."
“Me,My And I.”
Written by Stephen J. Vattimo April 19 ,2011
A living thing she was...she graced our land...
three hundred years and more, she stood with pride.
A focal point to meet with friends, we'd stand
or drive the intersected roads beside
the wall that sheltered this, our blessed tree
we thought long-standing for eternity.
The 'Heart of Balmville', certainly was she...
so many grew up in her view's embrace
and took for granted that this vision be
forever etched within this Balmville space.
Inside the small historic park, she stood
preserved for years in her dear ancient wood.
Her statuesque magnificence now gone...
our hearts are saddened, missing her great limbs.
But with her stump, might memories hold on
as the sight of her leaves and branches dims.
The 'Heart of Balmville' lives within each heart...
Dear Balmville Tree, sweet homage we impart.
Sexual Employee
It clocked in at 7:02 am
No orifice in sight
Placed the time card in a slot
Made its way to a metallic table
Blank white paper on the top
#2 lead pencil, covered yellow, appeared
One hour later the employee began to draw
At the center of the paper starting at point “A”
A thin line was drawn from there to point “B’ on the page
Horizontal, naturally
Below that, one hour later, another line was formed
Starting at point “C”
It too was a thin line drawn and continued on to point “D”
Horizontally, of course (the two lines never intersected)
Vertical lines could only be drawn on Fridays
Diagonals were not permitted
They were perverse and went against the laws of nature
The employee had no discernible features worth mentioning
But, it does come to work each day though
With two buttons built or installed into its side
It rolled over to the clock at 4:02 pm and punched out
Placed the time card in a designated slot and left
Went home with the push buttons still installed
One red. One green. Always the same
We never questioned
It is not our job
Words would remain caged as her eyes gazed at mine
She resided in my Maths and Science book back in Grade nine
She visited me in my sleep; my dreams were no longer mine
According to my mom, my grades were no longer fine
She solved simultaneous equations for me with her exquisite smile
Took over my Trigonometry, I was Sine while she became Cosine
Theta became love to this heart of mine
Selfishness took over; the strategy was to make her mine
Formed new Laws of Physics, the attraction I could no longer hide
Dark brown watery eyes that made my feet lose a straight line
She remained the X Axis and I the Y Axis that never intersected her line
I could claim that she eventually became mine
but gravity took over as this love intertwined
I fell so hard but I was fortunate to be rescued by this pen of mine
I guess she will never know, Phumlani Mthethwa
Corners,
Used to be
Places to cross,
To turn
To meet and greet a friend
And chat in friendly conversations.
Corners,
For Bee Bop Singing and
For small neighborhood grocery stores
And where some intersected and movie stars
Are discovered.
Corners,
For lamp post that children watched with care
To be home before the lamp post lamp came on
And where Frank Sinatra leaned and sang
'In The Wee Small Hours.'
Corners
Where strange street names were posted,
In large pring, to prevent anyone from getting
Too lost.
Now corners are gathering places for
Forlorn lost men,
Young and old,
To boast of yesterday
And lie about tomorrow.
Corners,
Places to escape from the mad rush,
Where you can get to nowhere fast,
Under an unfriendly 'Do No Loiter Sign.'
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