Friday, June 30, 2017

Sakina Shikari paints

Kevin M. Hibshman writes

Spring Is Gonna Unwind U

Essence of tart cherry.

Promise of honeysuckle.
Glass growing thru cracked pavements will truly shine.
New graffiti for newer times.
How we all have been trying to feel new.
A vibe so clear and fresh and good coming right for you.
We will be so beautiful as we bloom!

Let us be unstoppable when we boom.

 Hibi -- Fukase Masahisa

Anoucheka Gangabissoon writes

Shadiness of life~~~~

Say, what would you make of life 
Everything about it gives the impression
That we are free 
Free to live, to be, to love, to choose
To decide for ourselves 
Free to make things happen
To break things even 
In some other way 
It sounds so fishy!

Yes, why would the higher powers 
Give us so much freedom
And even remain at our disposal 
Ready to grant us our wishes
If we prayed honestly and with a pure heart!

Why, are we Gods, 
And are the higher powers our servants?
Pray, such can never be 
For our fates are chosen not by ourselves
Our fates are already pre set 
Why would we be given so much power 
So much freedom
So much authority 
In a world where living has no aim
In a world filled with abstraction 
And false pleasures?

Pray, worry I so much about my own existence 
Worry I so much that ready I am to forsake life's dance
So many paths are thrust on our faces
Each imposing its own truth on us 
Each bidding us to recognize it as genuine
Of the integrity of each, we have no solid proof!

Life is tricky 
Life worries me
I live as if I were an animal in a glass cage 
From outside, I can be observed
But from where I am, I see only the blue skies 
Veiled and mysterious!

Why, to the higher powers do I choose to bow 
I am not one of the Gods
I am a mere particle of dust, a grain of sand 
Lost somewhere on the vast shore of the universe
To the whims of my own existence I am lost 
Someday, I trust, I shall be allowed to come out of my cage
And see!
 Image result for glass cage painting
 The Glass Cage -- Pierre Lamare

Heather Jephcott writes

Love's Missing

You ask me 
what it feels like, 
this missing that accompanies love.

It hurts 
through to my finger tips 
and then it leaves 
only to return 
some time later.

Will the missing ever leave? 
I hope not! 
The pain seeps from my heart 
bound to precious memories 
bringing trembling lips 
and smiles.
Missing You -- Maria Pace-Wynters