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 steve o

FALLING…

As I lay here in the grass, looking up at the clouds. I am so relaxed. I cannot remember the last time I felt so at ease. Looking at the white puffs as they sail past me makes me wish I could be up there, just for a moment. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?  The wind is so soft and it whispers like music just for me as it caresses my face, my hair and my soul. I feel as if this is a special wind, in a special moment, just for me.

I close my eyes and suddenly I feel lighter, the images of the soft clouds beneath me fills my eyes.  The wind holds me and cradles me like a mother would a small child. Protecting me from all the hurt.  I ride the breeze, this wind, this moment.

Ahhhh, but I know it will not last, I know this wind I ride will have to end.

Will I fall when it is over, will I drop to the hardness below?

What can I do?

Will it hurt? I am scared, I am frightened and I am excited all at the same time. I am more alive now than I have ever been before. This wind, this new life, this right now.

I can feel it slowing down, settling in, I am starting to rise, as if I was a small wave that is begging to collapse into foam.

Now I begin my decent, my fall. With eyes closed, my body wanting to cover itself, so as to accept the impact. I am ready, I am ready…

Wait, why haven’t I felt the ground yet ?

I open my eyes one at a time, peeking at my hands, my body. I am not falling. I AM NOT FALLING?

WHY….what is that? It’s all around me, is it more wind. NO I can hear this, it’s, it’s…..

Butterflies, millions of butterflies…

Hahahahahahaha,,,they are carrying me down to earth, floating me downward, dancing around me, caressing me, like my wind did just moments ago.

I wish you could all feel this, it’s beautiful. They are singing to me. Their song is my song. A song of the heart, my heart

I reach my hand out into the madness of their flying to and fro.

I am back on the ground.

 

The falling was better then the flying.

 

 

This touching drawing is by a new friend Kara Simpson. She sent it to me along with these words.

“Hi, my name is Kara Simpson, i draw and this is one of my very first drawing i ever did and it would mean a lot if you wrote a story about this.”

SNOW SNIPER

 

 

 

 

 

Here is another three poem collection inspired by a single picture

SNOW SCULPTURE

I am the last

Of my kind

You can look

But will not find

Armed, but all alone

I wait for you

Sooner or later

You must pass thru

It won’t be long

Till the falling snow

Reveals to me

Which way you go

Is that you

That I hear

Are you far

Or are you near

I am a statue

That you can’t see

Just a little closer

I need you to be

As I touch my trigger

And gently squeeze

Your life’s now ended

I am not pleased

 

 

READY, AIM, WAIT

How do I

Reveal to you

What I know

That I must do

I was not born

To right the wrong

My heart and faith

Can’t come along

I must take back

Things I did not give

Like my home

And the way I live

As you look

Upon my face

Will you run

Or will you chase

Will you fight

By my side

Or shall I hunt

While you hide

I do not blink

Or hesitate

God be with you

Ready, aim, wait

 

I AM HERE

While the world

Passes by

While children born

Give first cry

And the wind

Blows to the west

And when God

Puts you to the test

I am here

Watching for you

Making sure

That dreams come true

We must each

Do our part

To save the meek

From dark heart

The winter’s snow

And summers heat

I’ll always guard

This city’s street

When comes the day

That I go home

Lay down my gun

No more alone

 

-Peace

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

 

If you’re reading this and would like to submit a photo/drawing or similar, please let us know.

 

The photo and words were submitted by ME @ http://sobnyc.wordpress.com/

THE HALF BLIND DATE

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

“RING,RING”, went the phone in the cabin of Shelia’s houseboat. “Okay Okay I’m coming,” Shelia yelled as she reached over the bunk bed/kitchen table to get to the pink princess phone in the center of the boats cabin. Phone in hand and half out of breath she spoke, “Hello?”

“Hi is this Shelia?” asked the voice on the other end.

“Yes it is,” Shelia replied ,“who’s calling please?”

“Hi My name is Eddie, I’m Alan’s friend, and he gave me your phone number. Alan did tell you about me didn’t he?” Eddie asked hesitantly, Eddie was very nervous about meeting someone new. With him being a Pirate on the open seas, he really never had time for a girlfriend. His sword buckling scars and the loss of his left eye always scared woman off.

Shelia said to herself for a moment, Eddie, Eddie, “Oh my, she exclaimed, yes, yes Eddie, Alan’s friend, of course. I’m sorry the call took me by surprise.” Shelia started thinking to herself “I hate these blind dates; you never know anything about the other person”.

Eddie started talking,” I guess our friends thought we might get along?”

He sounds polite enough, she thought. Shelia suddenly realized that they had been talking for almost 2 hours, laughing and joking about previous blind dates and experiences they have had. Eddie really sounded like a great guy; she was happy and relaxed for a change. Shelia smiled at the prospect of getting along with someone. It had been so long since her tragic boating accident that anyone would even give her a second glance these days. Most folks just stared at her when she walked into town to get supplies. The two of them acted like teenagers on the phone talking about their favorite music and their mutual love of sailing. Before she knew it they were sharing everything about themselves, well almost everything. Shelia didn’t have the courage to tell Eddie everything about herself. She wasn’t ready to tell him about what had happened that fateful day last year on her boat. Thinking to herself, “How do you tell someone you just met that you lost your right eye and that you now have to wear an eye patch?

 

This incredibly thought engaging artwork was submitted by our good friend Edilio Cicostile http://ediliociclostile.wordpress.com/

 

The words and the title “The Half Blind Date” is from my brain as I wrote this story.http://sobnyc.wordpress.com/

I hope you all enjoy it… Steve

 

-Peace

 

 

 

ATTENTION ALL ARTISTS AND WORDSMITHS !!!

I Got A Story Like That

Is looking for artists and writers to meet.

I have had a tremendous amount of fun and personal satisfaction with artists that I have never met sending me selected pieces of their work. Then I create a story/poem about that art.

Visit our site and see the results of our collaborations.

You don’t have to be an artist/writer to see whats happening here.

You might just have a little fun or maybe too much fun.

 

-Peace

INTO THE RED

 

INTO THE RED

I was told that this war would end all wars and that poets and artists from all the lands would tell of this day for centuries to come. I was told that we would all be immortalized and that our children’s children would be forever honored as the ancestors of us warriors. I was told that the glory of this war would come to me whether I died or survived this battlefield I stand upon today. I was told that dying was a great honor and the warriors to the left of my shield and to the right of my sword would gladly lay down their lives for that honor. I was told that my father, his father and his father fought bravely on this same battlefield and that some here today fought alongside them. I was told that I was born to be what I am, a warrior, here today. I have trained all of my young life for this war. I was told that to be truly happy in this life, one must be true to oneself inherited destiny. I was told these things by the gray haired soldiers’ of past wars who sit on the gilded thrones that float above the snow capped hills high atop the clouds that cover the huts and caves where we live. I was told at the great gathering that I would have the honor to fight. I was told that all who left their homes on this day would share the glory forever and as we marched to the border of our lands we march into history. I was told that the following morning sunrise would signal the start of the war. I was told to make peace with my god and with myself and that upon arrival at the field of battle that I was to kneel and pray to the heroes past, pray for forgiveness of my sins, pray for courage and strength.  I was told that upon the rising suns warmth on my shoulder I was to approach my enemy as he approached me. I was told that the fighting would commence upon contact, that there would be one instantaneous clash of bodies and souls. I was told that this battle would last no longer than a breath, a breath taken in and then exhaled outward. I was told that I would know that I had survived the fighting if I rode upon the wave of those who died from the impact.

I remember I was told this just as I felt the sun.

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

The incredible artwork titled “War 1990” is submitted from our friend Marina Kanavaki http://marinakanavaki.wordpress.com/

The words and the title “Into The Red” is the result of my view

of Marinas work. http://sobnyc.wordpress.com/

Thank you for the opportunity to write.

Steve O’Brien

NEVER AGAIN

Here is another wonderful piece of art that was sent to me. I asked this talented artist to send me any artwork they wanted and that I would write  my interpretation of  that piece.

I call this story Never Again.

“Never again, NEVER NEVER NEVER,” I said out loud. “That’s it, it’s over. I’m done. I’m finished with you and I’m finished with this, this so called life. I have no life, all I do is work work work”

***His reply reeked of boredom and was very low toned  “Ha ha, you can’t just up and leave like that. Just like me you’re stuck. You’ve given this thing of ours more than you care to admit. You’re in too deep. You can’t walk away, just like I can’t walk away, nobody just walks away!” He said in a very convincing voice that flowed like sweet wine being poured into my out stretched glass of “whatever this is that I have become.”

I replied through a long sip of me.“Maybe you can’t quit this, this thing we have become, but I can and I will,”

My mind drifted and I thought back at all “that I had now become.” What I had gone through, the rehearsals, the shows, the before and after parties, the ass-kissing and begging for auditions.

Sure, I was a HUGE success.

Sure I have all the money and awards one person should ever have, more than I’ll ever need.  

Was all that necessary, just to get here? Was it worth it to get here to this moment, this place and time, with him?

Who was he to tell me what is or is not good for me? I could stop this anytime I choose to, couldn’t I?

***Suddenly He whispered quickly and firmly. “I know what you’re thinking, and you can forget about it, right now.”

There was an unpleasant pause in the air as I squeezed my eyes closed in an attempt to isolate and compose my thoughts and reply. I was determined not to be bullied anymore. It was time for me to take back control, be myself, for myself, for my survival!

Still alone in my dressing room as I had been from the start of this conversation. I stood and looked directly into the mirror smiled and said,” Okay one more show, one more, then, I’m quitting,”

My reflection in my mirror just smiled back at me and whispered, “Sure, sure it’s your last show, it’s always you’re last show, you go and knock ’em dead.

***I’ll be right here when you get back, then WE can talk some more like we always do”

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

The words came from  Steve O’Brien   sobnyc.wordpress

The art is from Crenguta Mirela Bacaoanu

I love this collaboration, please challenge me !!!!

WHAT YOU HAVE SOWN

WHAT YOU HAVE SOWN

 

I am in the middle

 

Of who I am

 

I am not the same

 

Do you understand?

 

Is my “not”

 

What you can see?

 

Or is it just

 

What’s meant to be?

 

How shall I share

 

What I’ll become?

 

With those who’ve seen

 

What I’ve undone?

 

Reach out to touch

 

Or simply graze

 

It is your eyes

 

That show your daze

 

Do not fear

 

Or cry inside

 

Be of full heart

 

Thou will not hide

 

Remember your life

 

Is not your own

 

Remember to reap

 

What you have sown

 

Painting courtesy of http://dutchtouchart.com/#_cnum=1868&_cat=4

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