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It's all or nothing, you may agree?
or beg to differ, your choice
the guest of light upon our hospitality
wordless as the day is young
for the resting place of light becomes our reality
what guise will it take in passing hours
unto water it waves to land and caves
harbouring no fear nor comfort
it's evincive while we are totally dismissive
in our social malaise lacking truthful effort
of Nature's evident grounding
exalting the equilibrium of extremes
hostile to some, home to host
many mood swings tipping temptations
to resist even one's own ghost
no time to pause or ponder, nor cry
aloud for the victory always within sight
but ever so slightly out of reach
this apparitional commove so seldom seen
yet an instruction of a lifetime to teach
don't set your sights within social limits
never be side-tracked from being true to heart
allow the vision a chance to speak
give hope to the misunderstood, if you can
for every opportunity is taken as unique.
by anglia24
09h55: 06/03/2008
©2008anglia24
Walking through the old town of my city in search of inspiration, I suddenly came across this scooter, majestic and beautiful, alone in the midday sun.
The photos I took of it were approached in the same way as portrating a living being. In fact, I felt a special intimate connection, like a wordless dialogue with her.
At the end of the session, I said goodbye to her with a couple of affectionate taps on her saddle...
“Poetry
melts my bones.
enters my blood
and changes
its composition.”
― Sanober Khan
I arise
I creak a little
the bed creaks even more
what is the hour
I have no idea
I pad out bare feet
the wooden floorboards creak
open the bathroom door
the face in the mirror shrieks
I remember the face
from the night before
it is the same, I think
and yet
perhaps it is just a little bit more
the mirror finds me out
it tries to scream
it tries to shout
wordlessly my lips move in mime
am I here or
have I travelled back in time
the light seeks me out
surrounds me in it's lemon glow
the wooden, painted shade
I bought myself
a token of a love cut short
and never once allowed to grow
I am inspired by all I see
the little beads of perspiration
placed there by the dull and soundless wall
of the midday sun
pouring hot through mottled glass
casting patterns that will never last
the different coloured bottles shine
on the windowsill, like sea glass found
along the shingled beach the line
of debris gathered in the bay and ground
down to a whisper of it's former self
now little nuggets rest upon my shelf
echoing the bottles opposite
the jewels of the sea
and the spills of him mingled with the spills of me
we do not drink but pour
the contents dampen; soak into the sand
we sat there side by side yet so alone
so close; so intimate; hand in hand
where did those days go as they disappeared
the night rose up and choked and cloaked us against our will
the moon shone briefly; disappeared behind a cloud
now I am here and you are there and still
the intermittent seagulls cry and fly
their calls pierce through my morning reverie
the mirror clamours for attention and I sigh
as I meet the eyes; the same eyes filled with mystery
and darkened with deep-seated misery
if I cannot unravel the past or let it slip
like tangled knitting lain out upon my lap; knotted in my grip
then how can I step forward into the new
with sheer abandonment and give myself to you
I will find a way through endless poetry
let words flow like my love I give to you
between the lines the space is clear and pure and sweet
where we can find the peace; be lulled; subdued and fall asleep
where words are not enough and only feelings count
between the parallel lines of existence hear me out
please do not ever doubt
I WILL get off this roundabout
I love you
you love me
you taught me how to love myself
you showed me how to live; be free
to leave behind the past; the memories
and only keep the good ones that shaped my loving heart
the ones that seep into my bones
that flow now in my blood
that light my soul and eyes with all
this goodness and this cherished and immortal love; I fall
for you my love; for you
and only you can render me anew.
- AP - Copyright © remains with and is the intellectual property of the author
Copyright © protected images please do not reproduce without permission
The clip of the pigeons is mine and I have overlaid it with my brief edit from Brief Encounter. I hope you enjoy my cover of Three Steps to Heaven, with the additions of subtle undertones of my wind chimes and me bashing the tune out on my old and faithful and very forgiving guitar!
This photo was taken aboard the S.S. Jeremiah O'Brien Liberty Ship on a cruise from San Francisco to the Kaiser Shipyards in Richmond, California where Liberty Ship were made. Link:
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/SS_Jeremiah_O'Brien
Wordless on Wednesday #50 - title and description added a day later.
They shared this peaceful moment in wordless silence. Another magical sunset at the Flic en Flac beach.
This photo is for favorite flickr friends group daily them: Wordless Wednesday- Post a photo that describes how you are feeling that week without writing a title or description.
Happy Wordless Wednesday!!!
When we are entrusted with something we must exercise stewardship of it. At the very least our stewardship of depression that will not budge requires that we accept it. When we accept what we resist, things change. Exercising stewardship of our depression gives us the liberating space to stop thrashing in the quicksand of this burden of sadness. When we stop thrashing in quicksand, the quicksand will stop swallowing us alive. Letting be what we are entrusted with loosens depression’s grip even if it does not go away. Again, the contemplative maxim: we let be whatever is simply because it is. Other actions proceed from this.
-An Ocean of Light Contemplation, Transformation, and, Liberation Martin Laird, O.S.A.
Elle fait naître les histoires de cœur en brodant de paillettes nos vies. De ses mains émergent les romances. Perles et rubans jalonnent ses ouvrages pour nous porter
amour et passion.
www.ciecreature.fr/les-irreels.html
festival-marionnette.com/evenements/les-irreels
.. .
Big big big thank you EVERYONE for your generous support (visits, comms, congrats, faves, invites, notes, galleries, awards, votes...), deeply appreciated !
May peace, health and wisdom prevail everywhere on Earth and forever.
.. .
(BEST SEEN LARGE : please press L, or Z twice)
How are you feeling today?
Can you pick an Emoji for your expression?
Are you wordless now?
Lansdowne Carnival, Richmond. March 2017.
Fuji X-Pro2
Fuji XF 23mm F1.4 lens
Velvia Film Simulation
It's 22" x 22" before squaring up and binding, so actually pretty big...! All geese/kites are a different fabric (Except one repeat yellow). I actually love it, so if you dont, partner, can you tell me now so I can be selfish and hoard this one for myself :-) ?!
Yosemite, I hear is a beautiful place all through the year. I was there in March and the falls presented itself with wordless grace and a rainbow smiling alongside beautifully!
slycm.wordpress.com/2014/09/05/159/
-----------------------------
hair: Vanity Hair::Wordless Talking
(Sorry Tabata I'm too late :/)
Vanity Hair
marketplace.secondlife.com/stores/39198?id=39198
pose01:Bauhaus Movement - Skater Girl 1
Bauhaus Movement
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Gehena%20Vampire%20Clan/11...
sweater: [monso] My Preppy Sweater - White (girls) @
FaMESHed
FaMESHed
This was going to be a Wordless Wednesday photo, but why be wordless on Wednesday when you can be HAPPY on Wednesday!!!
10" of new snow on the mountain and an awesome boss that knows what makes me HAPPY!
Catch you all later, I am going boarding :-)
Happy Hump Day!
In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans.
Romans 8:26
Silence spreads like a wordless prayer. The lake breathes slowly, as time dissolves along the line where water meets sky. Nothing asks for haste.
There is an invisible dialogue between she and the horizon – a conversation that needs no sound, only presence. The tree, stripped of its leaves, understands. It bends with the wind but stands tall, holding secrets that winter cannot erase.
The bench is not just a place to rest but a space where thoughts drift lightly, dancing between what is and what once was. Solitude, here, does not weigh heavy. It spreads like light over the water, turning every absence into a poem.
At the lake’s edge, what feels missing becomes whole.
***
O silêncio se espalha como uma prece sem palavras. O lago respira devagar, enquanto o tempo se dissolve na linha onde a água encontra o céu. Nada pede pressa.
Há um diálogo invisível entre ela e o horizonte – uma conversa que não precisa de som, apenas de presença. A árvore, despida de folhas, entende. Ela se curva com o vento, mas permanece de pé, guardando segredos que o inverno não apaga.
O banco não é só um lugar de descanso, mas um espaço onde pensamentos flutuam leves, dançando entre o agora e o que já foi. A solidão, aqui, não pesa. Ela se espalha como luz sobre a água, transformando cada ausência em um poema.
Na margem do lago, o que falta se torna inteiro.
**
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