Sunday, April 29, 2012

Magpie Tales ~ Mag 115

The image provided this week is...

image by Manu Pombrol

I just had to play with this one!!!


He thought,
if he just sat there;
the plan would be made clear.
He thought and he sat;
and drank his cold beer.

He hoped,
if he just looked at it;
the design he would see.
He hoped and he looked;
and knew he should pee.

He tried,
if he'd just start moving;
the scheme would unfold.
He tried and he moved;
and he was unable to be bold.

He imagined,
if he could see it;
the picture would unfold.
He imagined and he saw;
and still it was cold.

He sat,
he looked,
he tried,
he moved.
 pages eluded him;
the story was yet.....untold.

A writers' tribute


Visit The Mag and see the other interpretations of this piece.  Thoroughly entertaining and please join in.
Celebrating writers of all kinds and in all walks of life.  I salute you all!

Have a creative and imaginative day
Hugging you


Sunday, April 22, 2012

Magpie Tales....Immersion!!!!

Welcome to another installment to Magpie Tales offered to us from The Mag.  The image to inspire us is...

image by Alex Stoddard


He thought he was a mermaid
He had it in his head
He spent his day a lounging
lounging in his bed.

He thought he was a submarine
He had it in his head,
He spent the day with periscopes
periscopes near his bed.

He thought he was a blue whale
He had it in is head.
He spent the day a singing
singing in his bed.

He thought he was an ocean wave
He had it in his head
He spent the day a sloshing
sloshing in his bed.

He knew that he was very sick
and couldn't leave his bed.
He spent the day a dreaming
And escaping in his head.

image altered by SueAnn

SueAnn @ 2012

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Magpie tales...Journey through Red!!

The image for today is Marc Chagall's....

Journey into Red

She carried her colors with her;
amazing the curator,
The intensity overwhelmed,
the saturation questioned.

She carried her colors in her pocket;
staining the path as she walked.
Her footprints endure,
leaving a shadow.

She carried her colors proudly;
beaming with a wide, wide grin.
Her clothing was stained,
creating a pattern of praise.

She carried her colors alone;
sharing her best loved red.
 Her brushes were crusty,
her fingers adept.

She carried her colors;
her pot overflowing.
Saturating canvases,
the message loud and clear!

Art is life!

SueAnn @ 2012

Visit The Mag and join in the fun!

Have a creative and imaginative day!
Hugging you

Monday, April 9, 2012

Magpie Tales....Fractured Imagining!!

Mag 112 offered a great challenge photo/painting this week!  I love it and if you do, join in.  Share a poem, lyric or short essay/story expressing your take on this piece...

image: djajakarta

I first altered it a bit...smiles!!!

image: djajakarta and SueAnn

Pursuing the emptiness!

Looking at a blank canvas;
the birth of a thought is incubating.
nestled between my mind and heart,
growing, emerging and escaping!

Facing a blank canvas;
holding back fear and restraint.
bile rising within,
doubt making me faint.

Touching that blank canvas;
dipping brush into a thought.
tracing the dream within,
ransom has been sought.

Applying fabric to the blank canvas;
adhering with glue and a pin.
folding, caressing, smoothing it flat,
touching the thought, so thin.

Mastering that blank canvas;
glue and paint and beads.
spreading and filling
edges do heed.

Completing that blank canvas;
knowing when it's done.
celebrating all alone.
totally giving that finishing touch
conquered by the one!

SueAnn @ 2012

Sunday, April 8, 2012

Gnarly Old Tree!!

I saw a man,
on a far distant hill;
nailed to a gnarly old tree.
His blood
flowing down that tree;
soaking the ground...wondering what I see?

I drew closer,
to that man;
nailed to the gnarly old tree.
His face....pure agony.
His breath came is gasps,
I shook and I fell to my knees.

I stood below,
and looked at Him;
nailed to that gnarly old tree.
Then He cried, "Don't forsake me!",
I wondered what he meant?
I sank as she feel to her knees.

Soon all gathered round Him,
and gently took Him down;
from the nails of that gnarly old tree.
Some were weeping; some were silent,
and they washed Him best they could;
swaddling Him now that He was clean.

Now I am standing where they held Him,
my body is covered in blood;
from the man on that gnarly old tree.
My mind is numb; my heart is broken,
I wondered what He meant,
as He hung on that gnarly old tree.

And soon He would be free,
from the tomb that held His frame;
for He died on that gnarly old tree.
Shackles broken, curtain ripped,
ground is trembling and it shook;
when I heard a voice shouting...
 You are free!!!

SueAnn @ 2012 (1996)

Have a wonderous and miraculous day
Hugging you

Happy Easter

Monday, April 2, 2012

Magpie Tales....Sorting it out!

Welcome to another challenge being offered this week by The Mag!!  The image to ponder is...

Parke Harrison

slightly altered

Sort it out

If I move carefully,
and take my time;
sorting  piece by piece,
standing on a dime.

If I move quietly,
and hold my breath;
listening to sounds within sounds,
standing in the depth.

If I move determinedly,
and leave nothing unturned;
handling each and every one,
standing as I learned.

If I move immediately,
and let nothing be undone;
sorting out the chaff,
standing up as one.

If I move tomorrow,
and watch the setting sun;
slipping below the horizon,
then my day is done.

SueAnn @ 2012

Have a creative and imaginative day!
Hugging you