I got a story like that

Artists and Writers…Finally a place to share. The world is a better place when we write, paint and illustrate creativity! All Rights Reserved

Archive for photo

For Sale…

windshield

Oh honey, just look at it, it’s perfect.

Yes it is my love. It’s a bit pricey though huh?

Oh silly stop worrying about the price. Aren’t we worth it?

Yes, of course we are honey; it’s just that with my new job and the End of the World coming on December 21st.  I was hoping we could just rent something and see how things go.

But, I really want this house. It has everything we dreamed of, look at the landscaping; the trees are the right size. And these steps, I’ll be the envy of every housewife around.  Besides, if the planet does crumble we’ll be safe living up here, right?

I guess you’re right. It would be nice to be floating instead of being swallowed up by the Earth. Okay, let’s get the realtor on the phone. I’m buying my honey a house.

Oh yeah, you’re the best husband a girl could ask for. Oh and one more thing sweetie, can we not tell anyone where we live?

Sure, okay. But why?

Well, once we move in I’ll have so much to do; I simply won’t have time for an End of the World Party.

********************************************************************************************************

I hope you enjoyed this story- this is what happens when I see a picture and begin to THINK…

-peace

Advertisements

The Fallen…

A friend asked that I write a poem about this photo.  I wrote it from three different views.

Eight Carry the One –  is the voice of the soldiers carrying the casket

The Passing is the voice of the family watching

Deliver Me  – is the voice of the departed soldier

 

?????????????????????????????????????????

 

 

 

 

EIGHT CARRY THE ONE

We are eight

Who carry one

The one’s whose duty

Is now done

 

We carry you

Upon our shoulder

Because of you

We get to grow older

 

This cargo of ours

This hero inside

We carry with honor

We carry with pride

 

As we lay to rest

One of our best

We honor those

For this life they choose

 

Its time to sleep

So close your eyes

Soar with angels

Above blue skies

 

Now at peace

But not alone

Not going away

Just going home

 

 

THE PASSING

As I watched

Them carry you

I began to weep

My heart in two

 

Is it dark

Where you are

Are you near

Or are you far

 

When it came

Was it swift

Did you suffer

Any of it

 

Your loss

I shall mourn

And celebrate

That you were born

 

A folded flag

Is what they give

To signify

The life you live

 

It’s not enough

It’s just not fair

That here I stand

While you lie there

 

 

DELIVER ME

Is it morning

Noon or night

Is there darkness

Or daylight

 

Here I lie

Inside this womb

To be inserted

Into a tomb

 

I am not hurt

Or suffer pain

Upon a stone

They’ll write my name

 

Not angry

Nor afraid

I’m content

With choices made

 

Send the word

To me now

Show your light

Show me how

 

One last request

I ask of thee

Protect the ones

Who deliver me

 

 

-peace

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

DREAM TRAIN…

Another example of when artists and writers collide.

DREAM TRAIN

“I must have dozed off, how the hell did I get here?

I don’t even remember getting on this train. Everyone is awfully quiet. Hell they’re all just normal subway car riders. Looking but not really looking at each other. Everyone just trying not to be noticed, wanting to get through this ride and get off the train. Hell, what am I thinking? Of course, I just fell asleep. I’ve been working so damn hard these days, my brain is playing tricks on me. I’m imagining that I haven’t been sitting here the whole time. But have I been here? Why don’t I remember getting on this train? Did I miss my stop? I feel like I’ve been on this damn train forever!

Excuse me ma’am, ma’am, could you please tell me what the next stop is? I seemed to have dozed off and might have missed my stop, ma’am? How rude, she’s totally ignoring me.

I certainly must have missed my stop; these people don’t look like people who live in my neighborhood. They’re not even sociable. I’ll just close my eyes for a minute, I’m so damn tired, maybe I’ll take a nap and all this will have been just a weird dream. The worst part is that I feel like I’ve been here before. Oh well, at least I’m on my way home and not on my way to work!

That’s odd; the sun is shining into the car. How could it be light outside?”

Conductor’s voice over train intercom: “Sorry folks the next stop will be delayed. It seems some poor soul has jumped into the path of the train ahead of us and was killed.”

*********************************************************************************************************

The artwork is just one of the many unique and fascinating pieces by our new friend Ray Ferrer @ http://urbanwallart.wordpress.com/

The words fell out of my face and onto this page…http://sobnyc.wordpress.com/

Color ME?…I think not…it is I who color YOU

 

 

 

It is I who live here in this world, this painting.

YOU are but a mere visitor with YOUR brushes and canvas.

It is I who has mastered the art of ART.

YOU, who is so obviously desperate to leave YOUR home and create a place in which to escape to.

It is I who has the peace and serenity.

But, do not despair, I shall allow YOUR needed moments here in MY world.

I will step aside MY own feelings and MY life for a time.

While YOU can sit back and enjoy what I have become.

And yes, there may be a time when YOU must place ME somewhere else.

I will obey YOUR wishes and go quietly so that WE may be spoken of as artists, together.

For it is I and it is YOU that combine to be what WE are.

Until then, let YOU and I have this moment, this clarity, this place to be, OUR ART.

-peace

 

 

*******************************************************************************************************

 

This amazing artwork was generously submitted by our new friend Dan Miller @ http://www.facebook.com/pages/Dan-Miller/325648767502665

 

Words recklessly assembled by me  Steve @ http://sobnyc.wordpress.com/

March of the Dinosaurs…

Hannah was awarded the title of Grade Level Champion for her very creative and colorful poster that was entered into the UVM Math Poster Contest centered on the theme of Shapes and Sizes. Hannah’s poster was chosen as the winner out of all the 5th grade poster entries (There were 500 total poster entries from 32 Vermont schools).

I saw this and wanted to write  a story FOR HANNAH about her awesome drawing.

THANKS HANNAH FOR SHARING YOUR TERRIFIC ARTWORK WITH THE WORLD

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

MARCH OF THE DINOSAURS

“HUP TWO THREE FOUR – HUP TWO THREE FOUR,” Barked Greenie the T-Rex from behind the pack of dinosaurs.

“HUP TWO THREE FOUR.” He never stopped giving orders. Greenie knew that he had to keep his dinosaur friends marching towards the Sun Valley or they would all surely starve when the winter snows came and covered the ground.

“Boy, Greenie sure is marching us hard today,” squealed a very tired Steg the Yellow.

“He sure is, agreed Purple Bronto, but Greenie is the oldest and wisest dinosaur so we must obey.”

“I guess you’re right, “answered Yellow. “Soon we will be in the Sun Valley and have all the food and water we need.”

They all continued marching to Greenies cadence and rhythm.  His barking became less and less like barking and more musical and easier to march to; even the flying dinosaurs were in rhythm to his tune.

“HUP TWO THREE FOUR WE ARE MARCHING DINOSAURS – FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT WE WON’T STOP TILL DAYBREAK.”  It was a nice song and Greenie had marched his dinosaur friends to it for years and years. Greenie felt happy that they would once more be safe. Then come spring they could all travel back to their homes and enjoy another summer filled with laughter and fun.

“Hey Greenie,” Called out the tiniest of tiny dinosaur voices, “Are we there yet Greenie, huh, huh?”

Greenie looked down at the newest and smallest dinosaur in their group who was standing next to Purple Bronto

“Almost there little Hannah, we’re almost there.” “NOW- HUP TWO THREE FOUR,WHAT ARE WE MARCHING FOR? FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT, LET’S NOT MAKE OUR LITTLE HANNAH WAIT !”

I SALUTE THEE..

Every year on Memorial Day, this MARINE, Staff Sergeant Tim Chambers, stands in the sweltering Washington D.C. heat, in his dress uniform, holding a salute for every biker in the Rolling Thunder procession. He stands at attention, saluting his brothers and sisters, from start to finish, which is over four hours! When asked, “Sergeant Chambers, why the salute?” His response was effortless and profound, “It’s about the pain. A lot of these heroic guys still hurt and if I can relieve their pain for just one brief moment, then I’ve done my job.”

God bless you SSGT Chambers, and God bless those who stopped to care for you and give you some water.

 

I was so touched by this photo and story, I wrote this poem in his honor.

 

I SALUTE THEE

 

Every year

At this time

I salute

These men of mine

 

As they roll

And thunder by

My right hand raised

To my eye

 

Does it hurt?

Is what they ask

In your honor

I accept this task

 

Thru the heat

The blazing sun

I stand here proud

For every last one

 

I cannot drop

My arm, My hand

I will not rest

I only stand

 

On iron horses

A steel cavalry

My eyes forward

I salute thee

 

 

http://www.sobnyc.wordpress.com

 

-Peace

 

 

ALMOST THERE…

 

Again we have two poems to a very intriguing picture.
Dollface

Life’s scales, always in the balance

Our spiritual bond in check

Our time on earth together

Nurtured with love and with respect

We can not understand God’s ways

What’s meant to be will be

Losing you to God, so soon

Will never make sense to me

One day, making love on the beach

The next, burying you in the sand

That day, my heart was lowered into the ground

Was this truly part of God’s plan?

*

I bared my soul to you, not just my body

Death came in and took you away

My heart was held in your hands

I held you while you slipped away

A part of me went into your grave

Buried deep in the sand

I feel so weak, tired and sad

How will I go on?

Life is no longer worth living

To go on -with out you…

I will go mad!

*

“Dollface”

I hear him whisper…..I look all around…..I must be hearing things…..My mind is not sound

Dollface”, I hear him again

“It can’t be! I watched you die!  It was me who held you.  It was me who cried!”

It was then, I felt his touch

It was his hand brushing my cheek

My tears fell, it was too much

He took me into his arms

His breath upon my neck

“It will be Okay baby.  Don’t be alarmed.”

*

He proceeded to tell me

Of a promise he had made

After we had made love

Outside in the shade

He told me of his cancer

The terrible beast

Inside his body

Having a feast

It was then that he vowed

Never to leave

He would defeat death

He would succeed

Our scale was no longer balanced

Though our bond was still strong

He gave me my heart

So I could move on

I must go on living

I must be strong

He told me of our child

As he touched my tum

Created on the beach

Under a falling son

One day, making love

The next,  buried the sand

It doesn’t make sense

It isn’t Gods plan

This just happened

Out of our control

There is nothing we can do

Nothing to be told

I must go on for the sake of our son

Teach him and guide him

Play and have some fun

*

“Dollface?””

“Yes, babe?”

“It will be Okay.  Don’t be alarmed. I will watch over and guide you.  I’ll keep you from harm.”

****************************************************************************

words by Renee Robinson

http://naesnest.me/

 

art by  Michael Maier, Artist. http://en.cubanfineart.com/  Cuban Art EMagazine

 

 

THEN ***************************

 

There’s a poem I wrote about the same picture.

 

Enjoy

 

The Almost There Man

Oh my darling

 I miss thee so

How I wish

thee did not go

 

But I am,

 Here with you

You aren’t alone

We are still two

 

Oh my darling

I miss your touch

It is your presence

I need so much

 

Why can you not

See me here

You speak as if

I disappear

 

Oh my darling

You must return

My heart’s on fire

For you I burn

 

Look at me now

I cannot see

Can you feel

I do feel thee

-peace

 

words by Steve O’Brien @ http://sobnyc.wordpress.com/