Posts Tagged poem
Art is the most intense mode of individualism that the world has known.~ Oscar Wilde
It’s time to curl up on the on the couch and create-a-poem. Using the visual inspiration from the photos above – CREATE a poem.
- It could be a combination of one word captions inspired by each photo.
- Each line of the poem could be a phrase created by each photo.
- It could be any form of poetry or word play you choose, inspired by the photos.
I came up with this idea on a whim and it has become one of my favorite practices. I’m looking forward to reading a photo-poem by you in the comments.
All artwork, photography, and text in this website copyright © 2011-2012 Christine Young Contact
The most potent muse of all is our own inner child. ~ Stephen Nachmanovitch
Do you remember weaving string between your fingers?
or building a teepee?
How far can you reach?
Do you remember drawing triangles?
and then geometry got a bit more complicated?
Can you catch a raindrop?
or a rainbow?
Linked with POTW, thanks Hilary
In every man’s heart there is a secret nerve that answers to the vibrations of beauty. ~Christopher Morley
Don’t ask yourself what the world needs. Ask yourself what makes you come alive and then go do that. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive. ~ Howard Thurman
Wow! Thanks to all who jumped in and wrote such wonderful poems. (I added mine to the comment section ). I’m thrilled when anyone visits my blog and I really want to thank you for doing so. Thank you for being part of a community that deeply inspires me. For those who don’t comment, know that I appreciate you and feel your presence, it sounds corny but I do.
I have loads more typical fall photos, it’s been such a long & lovely red , yellow and orange feast for the eyes, but I’m actually tired of the pallette and thought I’d share some blue & yellow shots I’ve been collecting, they make me feel alive & awake…
What makes you come alive?
The purpose of life is to live it, to taste experience to the utmost, to reach out eagerly and without fear for newer and richer experience. ~ Eleanor Roosevelt
I am so excited to see what you come up with, even if just one person creates a photo poem in the comments, I will be so happy!
(If you’re lost read this post first )
As you look at each photo, jot down a caption, anything that comes to mind. Combine them in the comment section and see if you like how your poem comes out. It does not need to make sense, check out mine here & here, I don’t know if they make sense but they make me smile.
I know you have some words in your head, now please… pretty please ~ share your poem.
The primary benefit of practicing any art, whether well or badly, is that it enables one’s soul to grow. ~ Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.
bumps, burst, blur
I don’t know much about writing poems but I do enjoy playing with words and decided to call this process ‘Photo Poems’ It’s fun to add a caption to a shot and sometimes when I’m adding a bunch of titles at one sitting, one influences the other. Humor me and give it a try; my next post is a selection of photos with no captions, I’d love to see what you come up with for a ‘photo poem’. I’ll post my take in the following post.
I have named you queen.
There are taller ones than you, taller.
There are purer ones than you, purer.
There are lovelier than you, lovelier.
But you are the queen.
When you go through the streets
no one recognizes you.
No one sees your crystal crown, no one looks
at the carpet of red gold
that you tread as you pass,
the nonexistent carpet.
And when you appear
all the rivers sound
in my body, bells
shake the sky,
and a hymn fills the world.
Only you and I,
only you and I, my love,
listen to it.
~ Pablo Neruda
I’m a lucky girl. My husband treats me like a queen, which allows him to feel even more like a King. It’s why I married him. He thinks he is King of the World and I so admire the amount of self-love it takes to feel this way. His confidence and admiration of himself is so big and beautiful. Sometimes it’s cocky, but that just cracks me up. Most of the time he just knows how important and brave and worthwhile he is.
He has taught me a lot. I have regular episodes of not enoughness. He will catch me trying to do too much to prove I am worthwhile and gently ask me to slow down, to breathe deep, to have a cup of tea and sit. Just sit. I feel like he is asking me to just sit on my imaginary throne and be me, just me. No trying to be anything more.
On my morning walks with the dog, if I can’t find anything new and interesting to photograph, I wander over to the queen anne’s lace. It blooms profusely June, July, and August. There are even a few lingering in my yard today. Every time I look at this lovely lacey flower, I remember that I have an invisible crystal crown and know I am a queen. Well sometimes I feel more like a princess, but on really good days I AM A QUEEN.
I had fun searching for links this week to attach. I decided Freddie Mercury would be appropriate so here is one of my favorite Queen songs. And if you want to crack up laughing, check out this muppet homage to the Bohemian Rhapsody. But if you only have time to watch one Queen video, I recommend this one Queen + Luciano Pavarotti.
Every Day You Play
Every day you play with the light of the universe.
Subtle visitor, you arrive in the flower and the water.
You are more than this white head that I hold tightly
as a cluster of fruit, every day, between my hands.
You are like nobody since I love you.
Let me spread you out among yellow garlands.
Who writes your name in letters of smoke among the stars of the south?
Oh let me remember you as you were before you existed.
Suddenly the wind howls and bangs at my shut window.
The sky is a net crammed with shadowy fish.
Here all the winds let go sooner or later, all of them.
The rain takes off her clothes.
The birds go by, fleeing.
The wind. The wind.
I can contend only against the power of men.
The storm whirls dark leaves
and turns loose all the boats that were moored last night to the sky.
You are here. Oh, you do not run away.
You will answer me to the last cry.
Cling to me as though you were frightened.
Even so, at one time a strange shadow ran through your eyes.
Now, now too, little one, you bring me honeysuckle,
and even your breasts smell of it.
While the sad wind goes slaughtering butterflies
I love you, and my happiness bites the plum of your mouth.
How you must have suffered getting accustomed to me,
my savage, solitary soul, my name that sends them all running.
So many times we have seen the morning star burn, kissing our eyes,
and over our heads the gray light unwind in turning fans.
My words rained over you, stroking you.
A long time I have loved the sunned mother-of-pearl of your body.
I go so far as to think that you own the universe.
I will bring you happy flowers from the mountains, bluebells,
dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses.
to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.
Pablo Neruda’s words keep floating around as I take pictures of springs progress… day by day .