Saturday, November 29, 2008

Superior Scribbler Award and Uber Amazing and Kreativ Blog Awards

There are these delightful awards which circulate among bloggers as a way of giving recognition and praise. I love the idea . I see them often but I have never actually received one until yesterday. This Thanksgiving weekend I have been blessed with three! What fun! Thank you so much Jesse, Charli, and Terence!

Superior Scribbler Award, sent to me by Charli at Broken Mannequin and also by Terence at RabbitCanFly:

So here are the rules for this award:

1. Each Superior Scribbler must in turn pass The Award on to 5 most-deserving Blogger Friends.

2. Each Superior Scribbler must link to the author & the name of the blog from whom he/she has received The Award.

3. Each Superior Scribbler must display The Award on his/her blog, and link to This Post which explains The Award.

4. Each Blogger who wins The Superior Scribbler Award must visit This Post and add his/her name to the Mr. Linky List. That way, they’ll be able to keep up-to-date on everyone who receives This Prestigious Honor!

5. Each Superior Scribbler must post these rules on his/her blog.

So... Here are the bloggers' blogs to whom I bestow the gift bestowed upon me:

1. Broken Mannequin
2. Rabbit Can Fly
3. Random Thoughts on Life
4. The Voice of the Sea Wind
5. Matt's Myth

Jesse of The Art of Jesse kindly granted to me the Uber Amazing Blog award and the Kreativ Blogger Award . I am honored to accept these awards and to share them with others. Thank you Jesse! Thank you also to everyone who reads and comments! Your insights and your thoughts and the sharing is much appreciated.

My kind friend Jesse again handed out these to all bloggers. You are all welcome to please take this award and place it on your blog... :

Now for the rules for the Uber Amazing Award.

Put the logo on your blog or post.

* Nominate at least 10 blogs which show great Attitude and/or Gratitude!

* Be sure to link to your nominees within your post.

* Let them know that they have received this award by commenting on their blog.

I'll nominate:

* Broken Mannequin
* RabbitCanFly
* Butterfly Dreamer
* Moments In Phontography
* Peanut Butter Bound
* Random Thoughts on Life
* The Voice of Sea and Wind
* Today is Tomorrows Yesterday
* Talk 3 Talk 4
* Wayfarers Journey

Congratulations to you all and keep up the interesting and beautiful writing!

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Shared Poem in Comments ..Created from Snippits on the Fridge.

Miss Mary Bobo's Southern Table
Lynchburg, Tennessee
Ready for Thanksgiving Celebration
Photo by: John P. Ford

Just sharing a creative comment post from Alex.

Alex responded to the refrigerator poetry post as a true poet is likely to do....Write a poem!

I appreciate all readers and bloggers!. Thanks for taking the time to read and share your opinions and comments.

Writer On Board said:
Love it, Linda. Fun. I'll play:

morning yet they know not
I need a cup of liquid coffee
My sister...
I am over crap

Concrete poetry almost sacred translucent
Some delicious fever
From never more.....
I like question

Always woman
This heart speaks out like a child at play
A brilliant wet secret on hot magic cloud
bring men of, he too must

Make marbling
Perhaps green grass will dazzel that picture
perfume...lip is pierced...young girl I will heal you father said

Over ferocious daughter trust live laugh blush
Time to pick a flower
Open an old broken window

Change the hard blue universe

Sunday, November 16, 2008

Family, Friends & Reflections on Refrigerator Poetry


Home Reflections Photo
Photo By: John P. Ford

A couple of years ago eight folks in a group of long term friends decided to form a poetry group. We dubbed ourselves the Live Poet's Chowder Society. We have been writing poetry, reading about favorite poets and meeting monthly alternately at each other's homes. We have an evening of sharing our poetic creations as well food and companionship and whatever presents in the way of conversation!

One of the shared things from the group was a gift to me from Karen W of magnetic words to create poetry on the refrigerator. I did manage to get the magnetic strips out of the box and randomly arranged on the front of the frig. Alas, I have not done much else with them until tonight.

My children and their broods and significant others also plan a joint family event monthly, again alternating homes where the event is held. As I took a seat in front of the frig tonight with the thought of using my gift, I noticed many arranged lines where the words were no longer random! I have no idea who assembled what as no one has come forth to take credit for the short creations. I want to share them here. None is related to the other that I can determine. Do you have a favorite?


From never more.....

I like question

I need a cup of liquid coffee

My sister...
Open an old broken window
Change the hard blue universe

perfume...lip is pierced...young girl I will heal you father said

Perhaps green grass will dazzel that picture

A brilliant wet secret on hot magic cloud

This heart speaks out like a child at play

Concrete poetry almost sacred translucent morning yet they know not

Time to pick a flower

Over ferocious daughter trust live laugh blush bring men of, he too must

Make marbling

Always woman

Some delicious fever

I am over crap

Smile (this one from me)

Friday, November 14, 2008

Give sorrow words. The grief that does not speak whispers the o'er-fraught heart, and bids it break. ~ William Shakespeare

Photo By: John P. Ford

I appreciate the complexity of this photo from the photographic point of view and even more from the representational emotional point of view. The colors range from a blood orange red to misty white with mid tone grays. Color is emotional life in representation.

Red orange is the courage to go forward. Most of us will reach the need for this color quality at many points in life. Sometimes that courage is needed to just keep walking.

Visually, there seems to be a cottage type dwelling in the foreground. As the eye moves upward, more complex buildings present with the image culminating in a misty hill top structure that literally seems above it all with a feeling of mystical and magical qualities. Our lives are like that with many levels of the simple and the complex, the magical and the mundane.

Looking on the path, the water offers reflection of a kind that feels like an abstract painting. We are not sure what it is but we want to take a closer look!

Each of us is a work of art . We are like tapestries that form a beautiful complex pattern on the surface yet reveal errors of imperfections on the underside. The
errors are what make the beauty in the final pattern.

This photo is like a representation of life lived to me. We move from one spiritual dwelling or life space to another. We try to integrate the experiences into one cohesive whole. None of these buildings look as if they really belong together yet they make a lovely whole picture.

Sorrow is one aspect of life that can be devastating yet open doors to self exploration that we would have passed by if invited. Instead, we often find ourselves throw into experiences we would not choose.

No one would seek the kind of sorrow life losses or serious illness can bring. Sorrow and loss can be one path to personal integration and the resulting need for reinvention of self.

In Memoriam is a poem written after three years of grieving and living and learning to regroup after the loss of a love who was instrumental in helping me define who I was and now who I am.

In Memoriam

Approaching midnight
eve of April one
we sat in flickering candlelight
reviewing glorious old dreams and
spinning new ones
In rainbow colored threads.

Our voices high on life and promises
hearts open, fears shared
forgiveness given, energy pulsing
connecting our hearts with hope.
You spun fantasies of
What our life would be.

By December I'll be in
better shape than ever, you claimed.
In a year, I'll be hard and healthy.
I listened and I believed it.
Do it with me, you said do it all..
O.K., I agreed - - while I wished for
a tape recorder.

We danced slow
with no music.
Holding my hand
going up the stairs
one or two steps ahead of me
you turned and caught my eye.

I have always loved you
Even when you were with someone else
Even when I was with someone else
Even when I loved them too
Maybe even in another
Lifetime - you said with a smile

No one has known me
as you know me, you said.
I know - and I, you also
I shared , truthfully

Touching, holding, drifting
on the gentle waves
of your waterbed
we missed the entrance of
The April Fool Trickster.

Startled into wakefulness
I saw your eyes and
knew you were no longer there
Even though you body was

Disbelief - belief
Terror, deadly calm
Sirens, phone calls, pain
Hospital waiting rooms.
Hard to keep breathing.

Am I still breathing?
People we loved surrounded us
With an invisible inner circle
of those I have loved and lost.
Why am I still breathing?

A thousand times
in my imagination
I have died with you
the death you died but once.

Today I am alive
In love with life
Breathing, full of plans
time filled with
what I want and love.

Yet even now or
Tomorrow, tonight,
next year, this afternoon
the trickster's shadow
will cross my path as
I reach one thousand and one

Sunday, November 9, 2008

Illusions ....Poem and Understanding of Life...... in Process

As children we know that reality takes place on more than one level. We intuitively know that outer reality and inner reality need to be in harmony. We know that each has validity. If we are blessed as children we are allowed to live this freedom for harmony that we were born to experience.

As adults we may forget this magic knowing. Many of us spend our lives in reinvention of the wounded inner self while we work at redefining what is really important or truly meaningful.

This is a poem written some time ago as a part of a series during one of those personal periods of emotional internal sorting and healing while struggling to redefine what is real and what is illusion in the external world.

This kind of experience and sense of loss can feel consuming. It can become a lonely journey that no one travels with you. It is hard to see fellow travelers even when they may be standing with you and holding your hand.

This poem is a reminder to me of how powerful our thoughts can be and how deeply they can influence our experience.

Illusions...A Poem

Crumpled paper moons
Faded neon crayon promises
Mine and theirs

Walking through
Shattered shards of
Priceless Crystal barefoot

Up splintered stairs
With no rails....
Mindful of slipping

In my own blood
Toward a stream
of Faint Light

The real danger... always
Believing I travel
Anyway except alone

Monday, November 3, 2008

Twas the Night Before the Final Vote

When all through the house
mine and theirs
my favorite blogger
creatures were stirring
and I had my hand on the mouse.

Now Alex, Now John, Now Marcus
Covered it all
From predictions of outcome
To predictions of downfall

Music, Poetry and current events
Magic outlined by Charli
Favorite dreamer and life
and all of our laments

Religious experiences
From Rabbit and
Lovely word games from Jean
and I missing the historical perspective
and wondering about Christine.

Whatever your choice
Whatever your vote
You are ALL bloggers of note!