Monday, December 10, 2018

Leonard D Greco Jr draws

Alphabetic Primer of Fairyland

“G” is for Greenman (& Gryphon & Ganymede)

Arlene Corwin writes

Ought One Bathe In Sorrow?

Ought one bathe in sorrow,
Or let sorrow fade
Without a fading ‘way in sorrow?

Ought one bathe in sorrow
Or let sorrow fade
Transformed to something other?
Smother sorrow
Or coordinate its feelings
Into strength that lies within?
You understand, you reader you,
A needy ego never breaks away
From its own needy skin. 

In sorrow one can reach inchmeal
Brand-new, unfamiliar  skills
Horizons, wisdom, will, 
Of the fragile individual condition;

Knowledge that the sun comes up and sets,
Knowing from itself what gets
It going, glowing, showing up for us to use
With gifts that never lose their power,
Showering the donor
And receiver.

Sorrow time is time for seeing; 
For relating in-  to  outer;
Sorrow has a duty
To reshape activity,
See what’s truly
The wholeness of it all.

Sorrow time is time to tell
The difference between what you know
From what you don’t until
A time when you are there one (unimagined)  day
When you know all.

Ought one to bathe in sorrow?
No and no and no.
Lady In The Water Painting - Pool Of Sorrow by Iris Forbes
Pool of Sorrow -- Iris Forbes

John Patrick Robbins writes

My Part In The Game

Men do not give birth to children.
But great writers give birth to many.

I do not have children as an artist that was a choice I made.
And like any choice it came with a price.

I have lost women whom I have loved due to this.
But to be one with the page means giving up everything that matters.

Happiness is something I parted company with a very long time ago.

But one day my words will find someone.
Connect and give that spark of life to a true writer.

Maybe they will think hey I can do that.
Maybe they will breathe my words and call them their own.

Maybe some fool will recite them in hopes of getting laid creating a world of mistakes for everyone involved.

Either way it means my work did something more than its creator.

We true writers were all the children of someone who spilled their soul in ink once to.

I have made a lot of poor choices in my life.
Lost far more than I could ever gain.

I cast a shadow and one day so may you.

My words are all I have.
And that is far more than a room filled with people could ever fathom.

I hope one day to do as so many did for me.

Take my words for they are my soul keep them close for they are always true.

Never think of what may be.
The road ahead is all that matters from now on.
 -- Aidan Koch

Rik George writes

The Alpha-Bestiary

G is for Gilbert, 
The goat from Gowana, 
Who gambled his gold in Guyana and Ghana. 
A missionary swore to save his soul 
And make poor Gilbert’s fortunes whole. 
Night and day he preached at the goat, 
Read him the Bible over and over, 
Promised Gilbert a heaven of flowers and clover, ‘Til all his talking wore out his throat. 
Gilbert sighed, and inquired the odds 
Of a goat like himself ever meeting any gods, 
And offered to make the missionary a wager.


Neetu Malik writes


In the end
there is silence

it opens to
a forever that is
beyond you and me--
it is not ours

we spin and swirl
with nowhere
to gravitate

the earth yawns
with boredom

it knows all too well
the plight of

Image result for silence at the end paintings
 Silence -- Igor Shulman