Hunger, like a magnifying glass,
A fisheye, perhaps?
With hints of sweet and sour.
Searching… as if astounded
by the raw cussedness of human fragility.
Look into my closed eyes and imagine you see the light.

Museum of Documentary and Fiction
© outi art
When Lady Serenity
saw me, she swerved.
Her detour a reminder not to dwell on anxiety.
I want to absorb the tempo of my hero.
Go with her on a journey. We’ll decide.
Fill a syrup-colored packing case with maps loosely packed.
Plan our getaway on the back of a paperback. Take me with you.
Two bodies mutter to each other in smoke rings.
Signals blow back and forth. The mysterious air
between the pair; cloaks their mystery.
What are they saying? Is language extinct?
Are words with all their meanings obsolete
now. Frozen. Stiff.
Treat with care
a still image
that an actor could bring to life.
A black-and-white photograph of a baby
Held at arms-length by a midwife – the girl that nobody wanted –
who had little choice but to re-enact this dream called life.
Is it possible to be born again?
To REBIRTH?
An angel is
brought to Earth
on the wings of her fables
about changing the world.
Begin softly this new rhyme in her body. With the title “Human Parade”.
Her rebirth is the gift of traveling to the corners of the Earth and sharing the news that she’s arrived.
Are my dreams worth salvaging or should I abandon them immediately?
http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/02/28/photo-challenge-abandoned/
My thanks to Jennifer David at http://writingsofamrs.wordpress.com/ for featuring my work on PAY DAY Thursdays. Peace and blessings, everyone. Much love. Michele x
So here we are again with another Pay Day Thursday.
I have been so enjoying doing these Thursdays and having the opportunity to work with so many fabulous artists.
This week I would like to introduce you to Michele. https://micheledacosta.wordpress.com/ She is a beautiful person with a fantastic heart and spirit. Her photography and poetry is mystical and engaging.
We came together to collaborate on a cause and a poem.
Please take a moment to get to know Michele.
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Harmony meters measure
The moods rising
Off the tarmacadam.
Adults, in the swing of
Bills, forget to smile.
Less entertained by obligations
In the local park, a
Teen plays a keyboard
Harvests raw blurred notes, hint
Of a cool soundtrack.
High harmony
Readings encompass
The radiant child.
Echoes of lyrics dignify
The sensual pitch of her
Voice. She sings:
“Harmony travels
at the speed of joy.
A luminous poet is as light
as an ounce of osmosis.
Time after time
Parents, in the swing of
bills, forget to smile.
Moods rising… radiant child.”
How
can
I
accomplish my dreams?
The
hands
on my
clock
are
at loggerheads.
If when walking on the Avenue Of The Future,
I should happen to encounter
a fortune teller
who tells me: “You will mend your luck
when you turn back the clock.”
Will I deposit my gratitude
in the honesty box?
Or will I forge on ahead
weighed down by
regret?