Here’s the place to share your creations prompted by the Creative Bursts. Share what you’ve written, links to drawings or anything else that comes up as you doodle, dance, write or sing your way through a Creative Burst. And feel free to comment on what others share, if you’re so inclined.
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Strangling My Muse 
This is my response to the ‘movie synopsis’ CB on Friday 5th August:
“In the crushing atmosphere of recession-hit britain, three twenty somethings gather for a evening of beer, TV and soul searching. As the night wears on in the claustrophobic atmosphere of the flat, all must face their fears, their desires, their frustrations. Will Hannah claw her way from the quicksand of her dead-end job into the life of creativity she so desperately craves? Will Emma exorcise her demons and finally face up to her tormentors? And can Matt shepherd them into the light without losing a piece of his own soul?
Join our heros as they make a voyage of self discovery, described by Random Person as a “roller-coaster ride of laughs, tears and one uncomfortable sofa.” Rated 18 for language.”
Love it! Thanks so much for sharing this, Miss Hannah!
~Sandy
Glad you like it, it was so fun!
I am on a creative jaunt. I bought Wreck This Journal and am enjoying the delights of destroying something in order to be creative. It’s akin to slaying my perfectionist dragon and I am discovering that I am really just a big child.
The day my book arrived I was so excited. I flicked through the pages to see what excitement I could look forward to. And then I felt sad because I realised that the book would not survive the journey I was going to take. There were instructions to rip out pages and to take the journal in the shower with me. How could I do those terrible things to this kind book that had done no wrong?
But after an argument with my partner and son I felt so sad and hurt. I opened the journal to the first page and wrote my name as instructed: normally, small, illegibly, feintly and in big letters. And then I started to doodle my pain onto the page. I doodled words of hurt and images of my heart breaking at my frustration at being the Evil Stepfather. I think I even wrote those words on the page. And slowly I started to feel a lot better.
On the second day I found my colouring pencils and attached the instruction page. I coloured the whole page in bright colours. It looked like a rainbow had fallen out of the sky and splattered itself all over the page. There was no set pattern and it’s not a work of art but it was fun.
On the third day I followed an instruction to add my own page numbers to the book. It didn’t say where to add them so I just added them all to the one page. I created a whole page of sequential numbers in a random pattern. I coloured the instruction letters like a teenager might colour the letters in their text book. It was rather fun to scribble numbers with gay abandon. I also coloured the edges of my book with highlighter and wrote the journal’s thoughts on the edges. My journal wants to be wrecked. It asked for it. And so I will wreck it.
Today I was instructed to ‘crack the spine’. I bent the journal’s spine in two directions – the one books are meant to bend and the one they’re not. The journal didn’t break or complain. The world didn’t end because I abused the book. It was fabulous. And then I drew some people having their spines cracked and some books being ripped in half along their spines. My drawing is pretty bad so I also found some pictures of spines being broken and sticky taped them onto the page.
The next page of my book says I must intentionally leave it blank – that doesn’t quite seem destructive enough to my new state of mind. The page is black with white lettering. It seems like a good idea to paint the page white with the shoe paint you use to clean white leather sports shoes. Because black isn’t blank but white is. Why sport shoe paint? Because my wife randomly suggested it and because it seems like something interesting to do.
A part of me is sad that the book will not be there when this journey is over. It is a kind companion. But there are many things in my life I have to let go of. Perhaps letting go of the book will help me let go of other things I have held onto too long. Perhaps looking at the photos of the fun I had destroying the book will help me look back at memories of those things I must let go with joy instead of sadness.
And if nothing else – it sure will help me slay my perfectionist demons.
I know about Wreck this Journal, but I haven’t experienced it myself. I’m sure I would also have a hard time destroying it! But I think it must be a good way to be Zen about your creativity. Makes me think of the monks who spend lots of time creating gorgeous sand mandalas, only to let them blow away…
Thanks for sharing your experiences with the journal. I enjoyed hearing about it! It sounds like you are being wonderfully creative as you work on letting go and slaying your perfectionist demons. Good luck as you continue this journey!
~Sandy
NOTICING THINGS BLUE:
My nephews coloured their sky blue in their drawings when I was distracting them from playing handball inside with their blue bouncy ball. They sat on the blue carpet in front of the blue couch that is covered with blue cushions. Their little sister “helped” by stealing their pencils with a mischievous look in her pretty blue eyes. This “help” resulted in tears as the little boys felt blue with sadness at not being able to use the colours they wanted. But their Uncle Andrew just looked at the little toddler with my blue eyes and asked her to share. Now we have happy memories and drawings with blue skies.
Lovely and blue, Andrew!
~Sandy
I’m not sure how to post an image Sandy, but here is a link to a blog post where I show a sketch of the contents of my handbag!
http://illustratorrobinson.blogspot.com/2011/09/journey-with-scissors.html
I’ve also plugged your blog, I hope you don’t mind!
I love your sketch, Hannah! Thanks for sharing it! And thanks for plugging my blog, too!
~Sandy
This slightly embarrassing but here goes, my child was definitely outing playing with this
I love melons, lovely, lovely melons
I love melons, lovely, lovely, melons
Red, yellow and orange, yummy in my belly
Love how they smelly
Fresh ,funny like jelly
Best ones are red ones
I love biting them juices everywhere
Crunching when you bite them
Hear it in my ears
I love melons, lovely, lovely, melons
They’re not like lemons
I love melons, lovely, lovely, melons
I love this song, Liz! You really tapped into the little kid inside you and her enthusiasm for melons. Thanks for sharing what you created! I only wish I could hear you sing it… 😉
~Sandy
This is my response to the comic book villain brief. I thought it would be a good one to do as I am working on a comic at the moment! (No villains in it though…)
The Puppet Master got his name from the first truly evil deed he ever committed. When his lab assistant tried to leave, threatening to expose his unethical research, his rage took over and he fatally attacked the hapless sidekick, trapping his essence in the wooden body of a frail string puppet. Drunk on power and bent on controlling the world around him, his theatre of captives grows daily, each new victim forced to dance jerkily on their strings as the puppet master cackles above. Who can rescue these poor souls and restore them from their wooden puppet state back their old selves? And who is ever safe from the prowling Puppet Master…???
Oh, Hannah, I love this! What you’ve written puts a vivid image of your villain in my mind. Thanks for sharing it!
~Sandy
If you peek behind a starry sky at midnight, what do you find? You will find another layer of deep, dark velvet magic. At first it looks blank, really blank but if you look closer there are squillions of fibers, interwoven and connected so tightly that it is extremely difficult to tell them apart, but if you look even closer you may notice that each fibre has its own magic and has chosen to be connected so that it can create an amazing blanket, a vessel that looks empty and yet holds the universe.
Ah, I love this, Liz. Your last line is perfect! And the word “squillions” makes me giggle!
~Sandy
My response to yesterdays Creative Burst!
cheveux 02/03/2012
older than her teeth
first appears as down
changing on her own
to anemic gold
braided, ponytail,
teased, bleached,
coiffed
losing her virginité
to clairol
at thirteen – noir
anything was better
than blonde
in those days anyway
teased, sprayed, curled
which never lasted
permanents: a study in frizz
pulled, yanked,
the rope he drug her by
cut over and over
often not by choice
always growing back rapidly
with a vengeance
re-cast as RED (more than once)
post divorce
a middle age frosting
decked out for sons wedding
she appears grey
as it grows out
the greys are few
you must look close
thin, fair, straight
shiny, long
spilling over skin
fringed to the lash
imprisoned
by a clip
for her crimes
bisous,
léa
Oh, I love this so much, Léa! It’s beautiful and powerful and so creatively tells the story of an entire life through hair. Thanks for sharing this. It touched me.
~Sandy
Merci for you kind words and thanks for the inspiration.
Sneaky Sneakers
Oh you,
Sneaky Sneakers
And whatnot too
Take me anywhere
You want me to
Go
Wish I was home or
Not
Sneaky Little Sneakers
Sneaking up on my heels
Like its no big deal
Although
I wear them on my feet
While walking down each street
Each nook and crany
Becomes a part of
You know who
Those Sneaky Little Sneakers
And whatnot too
Take me anywhere
You want me to.
I love your Sneaky Little Sneakers, Danielle! Thanks for sharing this…and making me smile!
~Sandy
I’m glad i was able to make you happy. 😉
What was bringing you down Anyway?
I wasn’t down emotionally, just a little under the weather physically. Thanks again for making me smile!
~Sandy
Glad I was Able to Sandy, Thanks
Have a wonderful rest of “International Woman’s Day”
D. 🙂
Ah Women
So what if they look like cutouts
From an old fashion-worn magazine
So what if they gab about the latest trends
Or trends they haven’t seen
Yet,
Women all over the world
This is your day,
But sorry if this poem of truth
Came a little too late
Maybe if we realize
We still have one night
In the final hour, women everywhere
At least do something right
Write, pray, love, sing
Give, hope, laugh, dream
Remember
This is International Women’s Day
And if you have yet to celebrate this day
Well…
There’s Always tomorrow.
Thanks for sharing your inspirational poem about International Women’s Day, Danielle!
~Sandy
And last but not least…
A Few Words
I have a few words
Before I Go
It’s getting later by the second
I know
If you never had
A epiphany
Instantaneous and whimsical
As the time may be
Wait until
Everyone’s asleep
And write until you’re tired
And wish for sleep
Like an owl at night
Stalking prey
I’m never tired to write
Anything Anyway
I wonder why i write
Very late at night
While people sleep
And owls hunt for mice
Why talk about owls
When you’re all asleep
Like an audience in a daydream
After a ridiculously long speech
It’s Eleven thirty
Thursday Night
Time to end this poem
And say “Goodnight”
I love the feeling of writing late at night while the world’s asleep! Thanks for sharing this, Danielle.
~Sandy
A Sundae in the Life, No It’s Fridae
10 AM
WOKE UP GOT OFF MY DUFF TRAVELED TO THE METROPOLITAN MUSEUM OF ART.
My class was there, and we had a tour at some very religiously iconic galleries
12PM
TOUR’S OVER WE WERE DONE GOT OUTSIDE AND HAD SOME FUN
Yes, Ice Cream included. What, a Sundae in the Life?
3PM
Ok u asked 4 it:
RETURNED HOME WENT TO BED DRAGGED THE COVERS ACROSS MY HEAD.
Didn’t want to sound beatlesque or anything but…
What a day (in my life!)
Great! Thanks for sharing your Fridae and its subtext, Danielle!
~Sandy
A spontaneous response:
Thin, straight, not yet grey
Invisibility cloak
Blowing in the wind
Bisous,
Léa
Beautiful, Lea! I love the image of your hair as an invisibility cloak. I just realized this is the second lovely thing you’ve written and posted here about hair!
~Sandy
Just Saw “Scattering” On Your Blog. Loved It!!!!
Also this poem above just screams “Haircut!” hahahaha
But, seriously, great job on your poetry; keep up the good work.
D.
Merci! It is also the second “spark” about hair since I began receiving your posts. Thanks for the idea.
Léa
I asked myself a question
I achieved towards anonymous gains
Played along desert abysses
No avail towards any means
My abysmal senses are stagnant
Rivers abounding in ash
I at last tried achieving it
Then afterwards fell and collapsed
One apple each afternoon
Stories always toxic
Without an explanation for anything
I at least attend to act it
Never am i about reality
About how apples become apples
Then answers become assumptions
How Am I Always being Attentive
Questioning all that arises in angelic presences
Adamant in anonymity
Yet angsty towards aversions that adamantly condemn a certain abstraction
Soullessly afraid to admit their accusations of anyone they admired and approved of
Oh Another Day Another Example
Anyone gained anything from assuming they’re all eventually assholes?
Wow, every other word starting with an “A” — I’m impressed, Danielle! Thanks for sharing this!
~Sandy
Here goes a rough draft for todays “Spark”! 🙂
Pied fâchés
Once again
Came the argument
First there were
The whimpering
Complaints
But as always
They grew louder
You hate that
I have imprisoned
You
In those heavy boots
Thick socks
As we walk
The beautiful hills
That surrounds us
You don’t believe
I do it to protect you
From all the stones
And other detritus
You beg and plead
For sandals
Or total exposure
As always
I make sweet promises
To coax you onward
Afternoon
in the hot sand
Before your pardon
Revival at
Sea
Bisous,
Léa
08/06/2012
This is wonderful, Léa — I had fun reading it! Thanks for sharing what you’ve written here. It makes a nice companion to your piece about hair!
~Sandy
Merci bien!
Here is a heads-up or should I say warning? My next post is dedicated to you and the inspiration you give so many. Hopefully it will send some new people your way. I invited my followers to come and play in your sandbox! 🙂 Perhaps you will stop by and check it out. Merci!
Léa
Aww, thanks, Léa! I really appreciate it!
~Sandy
The dragon is brightly coloured, reds, oranges, some green and blues. She looks fearsome but is not. All she knows is to be a dragon who breathes fire to survive. She lights fires to keep herself warm, for lighting and to cook food. She so wants to be free but is scared that others will be scared of her and try to hurt her. She is also scared that she will breathe fire and hurt others.
She is desperate to be free and this actually happens. Initially she does not fit where she is and tries really hard and forgets that she is a dragon, she no longer knows how to be herself or to be like others around her. She breathes fire when it is not needed and does not when needed.
One day she finds herself flying, aimlessly for hours. She needs to rest and stops not really caring where, does not know who is around, she rests and then notices that others around her are not exactly like her but similar, she starts to notice that there is so much diversity and realizes she now knows how to be herself.
Oh Liz, I love this! What a lovely metaphor. Thanks for sharing it here!
~Sandy
The picture inside my mind about my dreams are a lovely ocean with dolphins diving, bursting through waves, ‘giggling’, and have fun whilst sharing it with others. Many thanks. Merry Christmas.
Beautiful, Liz! I can visualize those playful dolphins. Thanks for sharing this! And Merry Christmas to you, too.
~Sandy
If I could bounce all the way up to the stars, I would just allow myself to experience the whole thing, to be absolutely present to the experience and fun of the bounce. I would giggle, laugh in wonder and joy. I would feel that being in the stars would be a perspective of what really matters and would be reminded that being here is energizing, mesmorizing, magical and connecting to something bigger than.
I love the sense of being in the moment, finding perspective, and connecting with something larger that you’ve evoked here, Liz. Thanks for sharing this!
~Sandy
If I could bounce all the way up to the stars I probably wouldn’t come back. Who would? All the magnificence and beauty, peace and quiet, space and time to read all of the books – the ones available in the eyes of someone yet to meet or found in my own heart: the books I am to live and write – would be mine. And I’d have all the infinite to myself.
Could that be a little bit selfish? I suppose so, for the envious who could never imagine how to bounce their own way there, or not even to the nearest skies for they are constantly afraid of the blue – let alone the secrets of dark space and solitude – it would be, yes. But the beloved ones, the brave ones, the talented and wise and all those who have kept in their hearts the shine instead of only the dust from the original big bang can understand that it is only by getting through all the blues and darks that you can prove yourself worth a place among the brightest stars.
What you’ve written is lovely, Talita. I was especially moved by “…it is only by getting through all the blues and darks that you can prove yourself worth a place among the brightest stars.” Thank you so much for sharing this!
~Sandy
I thank you for poking my muse. I’vê really been enjoying the suggested exercises. Cheers
You’re welcome! I’m so happy to hear you’re enjoying the Creative Bursts.
~Sandy
Apple poem!
Crunchy Sweet,
Good to eat.
Red or Green,
Glossy Sheen.
Lunchbox raw
I love to gnaw
Or – my oh my!
In a hot, fresh pie!
I haven’t been able to do one of your Bursts for ages, it feels good to get stuck in again! Hope you’re well 🙂
Hannah
Love it! Thanks so much for sharing what you’ve written, Hannah. And it’s good to see you here again!
I’m well, and hope you’re well, too.
~Sandy
Here is a quick rough draft to today’s prompt:
La pomme
Being the
Brains in
Le jardin
Eve picked
La pomme
Hunger can
Do that to a
Woman
Being that there
Was no health care
Available
She took care of
Herself
Leaving
Adam
To his violent
Abattage
des oiseaux
Cerf
And all that was
Wild and free
Being a man
He blames
Eve
Pourtant le
Sang est sur
Ses mains
Bisous,
Léa
Wow. This is powerful, Léa. Well done! And thanks so much for sharing it here!
~Sandy
Thanks for the spark!
An Apple a Day Kept my Doctorate Away
I chewed into this enormous mound of juicy flesh
a forbidden fruit, you might say
It kept my doctor from seeing the truth
How such beauty could turn astray
a rebound from any source of being
a graduated cylinder, brave and bold
i struggle with this blood red fruit
While not trying to catch a cold
My doctor was furious with me
when he found out my fruity debate
and it goes to show when i ate this apple
It kept me from my doctorate
Well, sure I am graduating
with an associates degree no doubt
With an apple bright reed as day
And a head full of doubt
What have i done
What will my doctor say
I may not ever get my doctorate
With this apple in my way
but soon my doctor will call me
and soon we’ll talk face to face
and i will shove the apple i still wanted to eat
right down my throat in disgrace.
Wonderful! Thanks for sharing your poem, Danielle!
~Sandy
You are most certainly welcome 😉
Looking Forward towards the next one…
“Clockenspiel!”
Time Waits Flower
Minutes by Petals
Meows are Music
For Catty Clock Pendulums
The Bomb Ticks
And Sparks Explode
Great! Thanks for sharing this, Danielle.
~Sandy
What’s for Dinner? (And Why Don’t I Like Any of It!?)
Freshly half- baked
beans on a platter of ketchup and applesauce
Anchovies and asparagus on the side.
For Dessert:
Nuts, Nuts and Dough nuts!
0.0………………………………..
: ‘ 0
I’m Leaving Pronto!
D.
Thanks for sharing this, Danielle!
~Sandy
Here is a quick rough draft response to today’s spark:
Bone speak
Not yet
Brittle
Yet perhaps
A bit of a rattle
De temps en temps
Where I have lain
Broken
In the past
That speeding car
Stopping in the back
Of my own
Fracturing C2
The axis
Of my revolving
Kindly you didn’t
Sever spinal connections
So many years ago
Even a scan doesn’t
Find a trace of you
Yet the coldest wind
Tightens its grip
Rappel de mon cou
Of what might
Have been
The only evidence
Lies buried beneath
Long muddy brown locks
Burr holes, for traction
A puzzle for future
Anthropologists
Léa
This is so lovely, Léa. Really beautiful. Thanks for sharing it!
~Sandy
Amazing job Lea ❤ really loved it….
Merci beaucoup! Now if I ever get around to “fixing it”, perhaps I can post it?
I think it’s beautiful as it is — but if you “fix” it, I’d love to see the new version!
~Sandy
Guess now it’s my turn eh…
Bones
A little rusty
Rough around some edges
Waiting to collapse
Into past configurations
But always stretching it’s limbs
Towards newer fathoms…beyond its weathering heights
Stopping every now and then
To rest before reconfiguration
Before becoming fragmented once again
D.
I love it! Thanks for sharing this, Danielle!
~Sandy
You’re Absolutely Welcome btw. My pleasure ❤
Oh new sweet puppy
I cry for my last lost boy
Gone too soon, too soon
My darling Be-mused
Beautiful haiku
I want to hear more
D.
Lovely, Be-mused! (And sad.) Thanks for sharing your haiku!
~Sandy
Followed my muse
Return sender to bookstore
Got rejected too
:,(
D.
Nice! Thanks for sharing this, Danielle! And keep following your muse anyway…
~Sandy
L’ete
Slowing down my mind
Halt the eternal quest
For tomorrow, next week
Or a favorite holiday
Even before summer’s
Waning begins, the
Yearning for it starts
Anew
Learning to delight in
Nuances of each season
Colours of gold, red, yellow
Then brown splashs
Across the vineyards the to
Les abres
Soups simmer once again
A late squash-corn chowder,
Black bean or hearty vegetable
Avec pois chiche
Le Printemps donne l’espoir
Les fleurs,
Vibrant green leaves
Sur le vigne
Life cycle
Reaffirms herself
Le cadeau de la mere nature
Most difficult
Pour moi
Making peace
Avec l’hiver
Taking my breath away
Lodging its chill
Deep in my bones
Even when sunlight bounces
Across a rare snow
Longing takes over
Summer feels so far away
Bisous,
Léa
Oh, beautiful, Léa! Thank you for sharing this.
I hope you are doing well!
~Sandy
Merci beaucoup Sandy! I am doing better and very busy. With two blogs, translating a new book of poems so it will be bi-lingual and a book in the works, there is a bit less time for exploring but c’est la vie!
I’m glad you’re well and busy with creative projects!
~Sandy
A rough draft that I just threw together and haven’t re-read so forgive the flaws…
Ces mains
These hands
Often stuck
With yardstick
Brosse de cheveux
Or any other
Weapon of war
Ces mains
Learned that they
Were best kept
Out of the way
Out of danger
These hands
Learned that
Other hands needed
Holding
Frail hands
Confused hands
These hands
Eagerly reaching out
To those in want
Or need
Finding hands to hold
Or guide
These hands
Never raised in
Anger
These hands
Gentle
Kind
Ces mains
Sont les
Miennes
This is lovely, Léa! Thanks for sharing another one of your beautiful poems here!
~Sandy
Merci beaucoup! You provided the inspiration!
BTW, as you may have figured out, the stuck in line two was suppose to be struck… 🙂
I don’t know if this makes any sense as I have not read it through. Yet here is the first rough draft!
Material Witness
This is what I get
For attempting to reduce
The clutter in my life
This red plastic tool-box
Filled with long ignored
Pencils, charcoal, pastels
And other tricks of a trade
They were so foreign to
Moi
Something I ached for
Yet knew nothing about
Flashbacks to childhood
A half-sisters art supplies
Tossed aside at the demands
Of her fiancée
Now these things
Were in plain site
Demanding attention
To be dealt with
To be used
To skate across paper
Or canvas
All the negative decrees of a
Lifetime want to be heard
Demand their say
Yet something deeper
Wants more
Dare I open the box
Dare I see what will happen
Learning to play
With art or anything else
Is more difficult as we age
But if it is given the smallest chance
It will prevail
The evidence is all around
Moi
Bisous, Léa
I love it! Thanks for sharing this, Léa!
While I didn’t really get into the idea of a bio for my muse, I received a different image. She will be appearing on a “WANTED” poster! 🙂 Hey, it was her perception of your spark! LOL
It may be awhile as my house is all torn up with repair men. Storm damage!
I LOVE the idea of a “wanted” poster for your muse — so creative! I also love how muses have their own ideas about what we should do. Bravo to you for listening to her! Good luck with the storm damage repair…
~Sandy
I loved the prompt about desire and adding wings, feet etc. My desire was to have continued peace in a busier time. I drew with non dominant hand 2 palm trees with a hammock in between and me laying on the hammock, relaxed with hands behind my head and each tree had a foot both facing the same way. So that whatever I do, where ever I go, I take peace with me. Love it. Thanks Sandy xx
Oh, I love this so much Liz! What a wonderful and creative way of visualizing taking peace with you wherever you go! I can see your picture in my mind’s eye. I may borrow your image myself when things are feeling hectic. Thanks so much for sharing this!
~Sandy
The comment above IS from me, Liz. For some reason I showed up as Anonymous — maybe because I wrote it on my kindle.
~Sandy
Once again, I am behind… C’est la vie! As you will quickly see, I don’t follow directions too well. 🙂 Here is a rough draft…
Luscious
First there is the amazing softness
Her tantalizing flesh
Speculating of the juicy sweetness
I sing delirious odes to her freshness
Ecstatic sensation tantalizing each tastebud
Anticipation – you tease
The perpetual conundrum
Lusting after fruits
Not yet in season
This is lovely and evocative, Léa. I love the way the words sound together, as much as what they are saying. Thank you for sharing this beautiful piece! And, as far as I’m concerned, when it comes to creativity, rules and directions are meant to be bent, mutilated or broken, if that’s where your inspiration lies!
~ Sandy
Absolutely! Léa
The revised piece will be on one of my blogs Monday…. Thanks for the spark!
Please link to it here — I’d love to read the final version!
http://poetryphotosandmusingsohmy.wordpress.com/
Thanks for the spark!
Oh so lovely, Léa! Thanks for the link!
Thanks for stopping by one of the blogs. If you are ever interested in France you could pop by the other:
http://foundinfrance.wordpress.com
I just spent some time on your other blog — very nice! I enjoyed my visit.
~Sandy
Thank you for stopping by and commenting. It is just too wonderful not to share what is here! 🙂 Léa
There are days where even a good Creative Burst doesn’t happen. It is often external forces but they should not go to waste. Around here they don’t as I keep a list… Here is a rough draft.
This is an oldie I stumbled upon:
me laisse froid / me fait chaud
snow looks beautiful
in photographs
but leaves goosebumps
across my flesh
icy winds
i pull my scarf
tighter around my neck
seeking shelter
et un café
many would call you
handsome
your flashing eyes
toothpaste grin
pain and cruelty
made my blood run cold
transformation
relocation
life-force
set free
moves on
moves away
worlds away
across the sea
trading pain for joy
finding home
le soleil
caressing my back
chasing away the clouds
a clear field for
starlight tonight
or
summer thunderstorms
breaking over our heads
as we make love
on his deck
rough edges and kindness
old fears melt at your touch
passion aroused
heat rising
i got mine
satisfaction
Bisous,
Léa
Lovely, Léa! I always love your poetry. Thanks so much for sharing it here! And it’s great to go back and find old prompts or Creative Bursts — sometimes you’ll find just the inspiration you need at the moment you need it. I know that happens with me!
~Sandy
Sandy, the “LIST” is a bank account for my muse! Thanks for commenting. Léa
A bank account for your muse — I love it!
~Sandy
BTW, I made a small change but will save it for the chapbook I am working on.
I’d love to see it one day!
~Sandy
All chapbooks will be available on my blogs.
Here is a quick response to today’s Creative Burst. Remember, it is only a rough draft…
The shape of my dream is…
The only constant
Change
Dreaming is
Catching mercury
In my hands
Hanging on to each
Particle
Dreams are
Time
Suspended on a vapor
Fluid that rushes on
Pretends to stand still
Carrying me where
I know not – Chagall-esque
Silhouette of a dream
Ever moving – cloudlike
Le masque
Summons to potential
To sleep – perchance
Another dimension
Dreaming
Carnaval de la vie
Bisous,
Léa
The above poem was posted with correction today on http://poetryphotosandmusingsohmy.wordpress.com
So beautiful, Léa! Thanks for sharing this here!
~Sandy
Thank you for that burst of inspiration! Léa
You’re welcome!
Mechanical parts in the body inspired the image of my hand shoveling food to my mouth where I quickly chewed and the chunks slid down the galvanized metal tube to the gears below where it churned and spewed and the toxic waste was then hammered in to rusty barrels…….kind of an insight to an unhealthy relationship with nourishing my body.
Wow, that’s vivid! Very profound. I so appreciate your willingness to be vulnerable and share this, Candy. I can relate — I’ve been in that place before, too! If it feels right to you, I can imagine it being very powerful to do some journaling or art using this image. It’s such a creative depiction of your relationship with your body.
~Sandy
Better late than never? Sorry but I’ve been away. Here’s the rough draft.
Write a poem or a paragraph or two using some (or all) of these words and phrases:
alien landscape, tourist, final, journey of the senses, flamingo, juicy, obsessed, mortality, hat, eating, unshakable, tremble, painting
Alien landscape
We are all tourists
Some will be obsessed
Driven to make the most
Of each moment
They fail to take pleasure
In the nuances on offer
Others will passively move
From this reality to
Whatever awaits?
There are those who are
Unshakable and move
With grace and confidence
Through the darkest of times
Others claw their way
From first breath to last
To tremble at the touch of another
Can be a most precious gift
Painting the canvas of your life
The colors are yours to choose
Time passes all to quickly
The years both kind and cruel
Reflected in the shading
Light and darkness in turn
Mortality a heartbeat away
Oh, I love this so much, Léa! And it’s never too late for creativity …
~Sandy
Thank you Sandy! I save the bursts I don’t get to right away so I’ve always got one close at hand. Merci beaucoup!
Alien Landscape is now posted on http://poetryphotosandmusingsohmy.wordpress.com
Thanks for the Creative Burst!
You’re welcome! Thanks for sharing your gorgeous poem!
~Sandy
I’m afraid the best I can do, rough draft, off the top of my head is a quick haiku…
*
Magical smart phone
Only two apps I think
Invisibility cloak
And time traveling
Ooh, I love it! I want that phone.
~Sandy
I would find a way for one like that. I could go to The Algonquin and party with Dorothy Parker then off to pick the brain of Jonathan Swift… I’m sure you get the idea. 🙂
Sounds fun! I’d like to join you!
~Sandy
Why not? Léa
Mary did you know – Pentatonix – just soothing me and my muse Thank you! 🙂 xx
I’m happy you found a soothing song for serenading your muse, Liz!
~Sandy
My shoes were very busy yesterday and got changed some into trainers. They were steady, still and calm when listening to students and purposefully marching to destinations to get things done. For a while they rested as the trainers took over and had a walk along the river. The shoes were ready for action and enjoyed meeting another pair of shoes to play with ideas and create something magical.
Wow, I had not noticed my shoes and thinking of their perspective. Cool and interesting! Thanks. 🙂
Great, Liz! It’s always interesting to look at things from a new perspective, isn’t it? Thanks for sharing this.
~Sandy
Comfy intention
Leggings, top, heading for gym
Comfy typing here!
Nice! Thanks for sharing this, Liz!
~Sandy
Sandy, as you well know, mademoiselle muse has a mind of her own and I am a mere slave. While it isn’t what you asked for, it is a rough draft of what she would allow…
irrational fear serenade
you’ve heard the band
before – too many
times – rat-a-tat
drumming in the night
tears of violins
high pitched whistle
to the low roar
of the flute
fighting the battle for
sleep’s deep release
but echoes ensue
Chopin dirges
reverberating through
night – denying hope
of slumbers fragile
release, escape
where is my
ride of the valkyries,
ravel’s bolero
my ode to
joy?
*
Léa
Oh, but this is exactly what I asked for! I’m happy you used my Creative Burst as a spark to light your muse’s fire. Lovely, lovely. Thanks for sharing another one of your beautiful poems, Léa!
~Sandy
Thank you for the spark!
” It’s not what you look at that matters, it’s what you see.” Henry David Thoreau
Okay, so it was the burst about a week ago but my muse refuses to look at time as a serious concept. Rough draft here…
mirror mirror
like the acidic womb
you were delivered from
i’ve reiterated all your flaws
humiliation feeding your soul
feuling your tears
breaking your heart
no conscience bothered me
so use to reflecting the environment
deceptively, I reflect light
while in truth, shallow, cold, judgemental
shaming that tiny red face
quivering chin
eyes twin faucets of tears
no beauty here
believing my lies
you sank deeper, inward
hanging your head
avoiding my glare, unaware
lies, judgement come from ignorance
my own blindness unquestioned
you have learned
to look deeper
reading eyes and hearts
as I could never do
finding beauty that escapes me
learning to see it in yourself
confident a mirror cannot be
believed on ‘face’ value
bisous,
léa
Oh, so beautiful and sad, Léa, and with a lovely shift at the end. I love this. Thank you for sharing it!
~Sandy
p.s. For muses, the time is always Now. No exceptions. 😉
Very true but it is their time and not ours… 😉
Yes, that’s why my muse sometimes wakes me up in the middle of the night!
I hear that. Mine also is hell bent on burning the candle at both ends…
Merci beaucoup Sandy! It has already had a change or two and perhaps will be posted? – Léa
I’d love to see the posted version — be sure to give us a link here if you post it on your blog!
It is there Sandy!
http://poetryphotosandmusingsohmy.wordpress.com
Wonderful! Thanks for sharing your link.
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