Tag Archives: ShadowDancer

Midweek Features – 26/01/2011 – Just because

Today’s features are ‘just because’ as there’s no theme. The art and writing just caught my eye and so here they are. 🙂

There’s something special about this image. I love the colours and the delicacy of the lines and textures, but also the subject – the masks we wear…

masquerade, 2008 by © Thelma Van Rensburg

masquerade, 2008 by © Thelma Van Rensburg

and the secrets we keep. I love the way the poem reaches out. Sometimes poetry really is the only way to express those feelings we have to hide from plain sight.

Secrets by © lisameryl

If you knew how much I care
longing to confess everything
there’s so much I want to share

I can never speak your name
nor the feelings in my heart
aware you’ll never feel the same

It’s far from love yet
you and I are dear friends
for we’ve recently just met

I feel a deep connection
my soul is drawn to yours
I’m filled with much affection

You’re on my mind everyday
to hold and kiss you
would be like Christmas in May

I’m aware we’ll never be more
but with every passing moment
these feelings burn me to the core

I may be strong and brave
but there are some secrets
one must take to the grave

The bright colours and the flow of this painting just caught my eye.

Destiny by © Ming Myaskovsky

Destiny by © Ming Myaskovsky

I love the sensuality of this poem, the ebb and flow and somehow Ming’s painting and PJ’s poem seem to flow together…

lunar tides by © ShadowDancer

when the suns gold
gives its last flash
across our bed,
like a nuclear bomb
in reverse,
the moon stands above us,
white luna holding heaven together
supporting the sky,

you loom above me
dark over light

my body is your moon
holding heaven inside of us

night begins as
your body crashes slowly
into me,
my luna spirit
hearkening your deep ocean

I beg for you to unleash
a thousand floods inside of me
drown the world
drown us
drown me

with you
I am no longer
impenetrable
your waters move
in rhythm to my heartbeat
and sink the ghosts ships
that were clinging to my skin

your ocean is the pulse
of my silent pull

and as your tidal wave dissipates,
there is now a calming,
my moon sinks into its own horizon…
we drift together
into the sky, across the earth

you rest into me
dark over light

Okay, this is a bit of a turn to the ‘other side’, however life and death lie close together…

Marie-Antoinette’s Nightmare by © VenusOak

and another turn about, from nightmares to dreams we cherish. I certainly have had dreams like that.

I Wish I May, I Wish I Might….. by © LauraBroussard

I wish I may,
I wish I might,
have the dream,
I dreamt last night.

Deep, deep sleep,
which carries me over….
to a place of unknown wonders.

I wish I may,
I wish I might,
have the dream,
I dreamt last night.

Flying through the air,
pulsing my arms,
to go up there.

I wish I may,
I wish I might,
have the dream,
I dreamt last night.

Kissing that person,
strange as it seems,
oh well,…….
it was just a dream.

I wish I may,
I wish I might,
have the dream,
I dreamt last night.

Beneath me now,
a world.
Beneath me now,
a new world………………..

I wish I may,
I wish I might,
have the dream,
I dreamt last night :))

From nightmares and dreams to the way we see ourselves. I find self portraits fascinating, especially in a group like ours. It’s so interesting to see the way we view ourselves – the things we have in common and the things we don’t – and this is a particulalry beautiful image.

Untitled by © Cate Legnoverde

Untitled by © Cate Legnoverde

LovelyRita’s poem is a self portrait in the form of a poem. It caught my eye because it was so honest and true and we all struggle with the way we change towards age. How odd it is to see the outside change, when inside we’re still the way we were and then we look in the mirror and we feel we don’t recognise the person looking back… and then there’s the issue of the way woman are potraited in the media… don’t get me started!

White Girl by © lovelyrita

I am white like her
But my nose is longer
My flaws are more defined
Far more circles than lines

My figure is a maze
Too rough to finish –
Even gaze at
Unlike her streamlined form
She’s perfect weather, I’m a storm
I know this

I am white like her
But not as bright as her
I have brown hair too
And my eyes are blue
But her hair is silk and fine
Nothing like mine
which is coarse
and short
and breaking
resembling my lifeline
gradually flaking off,
unlike the creases below my eyes

She has none, of course

And no matter how I try
I will never look like her

This image caught my eye immediately when it appeared in my image stream, it impressed me so much I asked Jacqleen to submit it to the group. There’s something so ‘wild’ for want of a better word, something so raw about it… deeply touching.

Filth.. by © jacqleen

Shar’s poem just fits the feeling in the image perfectly. Some peope indeed…

Provoked by © autumnwind

unleashed once more
your bitter acerbic insolence
warp and sabotage
the integrity of good intent

you linger way too long
upon the self indulgent
banal enhancement
of your own delusional ego

are you not aware
of the wall
you have so steadfastly erected?

my anger turns to pity
I see the true colors
of which your eyes have been deprived

it is YOU
the handicapped
despite your perfect mind and body

it is YOU
the afflicted
despite your exemplary life

you cannot see
beyond your fabricated barricade
you cannot swim the moat
polluted with the excrement of your
thoughtless, self-serving
self absorbed uncharitable convictions

you make me scream in silence

Finally, Helene’s strong image about what a ‘man’s world’ has done to the world…

Capicu! by © helene ruiz

Capicu! by © helene ruiz

… and MoonSpiral rediscovering her writing roots. I am glad she did. 🙂

Chasing the Mystery by © MoonSpiral

Tonight I’m reading Milton and Keats,
Eliot and Yeats,
trying to siphon off the secret.
No one else has dreamed of it.
I know it’s there….
somewhere,
hidden in plain sight.
This is my elevated goal tonight.

I must find the mystery.
Unravel it to shreds.
I will make it old and weary,
until the mystery is dead.

Bleary-eyed hunger
sinking into my root.
I am beginning to wonder
if it was that religious fruit
that soured me to what I have become.
Half ready to be numb.
Half ready to be alive.

“But why?”
said the little beetle
rolling around on my chest.
He is now completely fetal.
It happens to the best.

And the un-rational
are so full of passion.
While the wise no longer
stand at attention.

It makes no sense.
It was never meant to.
That is the mystery.

But I digress
into memories of you.
It is a wretched reverie.

I am losing sight of my goal.
My dreams are even less drastic,
somewhat similar to plastic.

So we wave our white flags
of surrender.
While screaming at those
who remember.

I am older than I was.
And soon,
it will again be September.
And the moon,
so full and luminous,
will wane once more.

Where do I go?
Now that my neck is sore
and my eyes are dry
and reddened.

I could just go to bed.
Try again tomorrow
and tomorrow…
and tomorrow…

Chasing the mystery
into the halls of joy
and the seas
of sorrow.

I hope you enjoy these ‘Just because’ features. 🙂


Midweek Features – End of Year – 29/12/2010

To celebrate the ‘almost’ end of this very successful year which saw Pink Panther go through changes and return like a phoenix here are the last set of features for the year.

Anna and I chose them together, so it’s her fault for choosing another one of mine. LOL I chose all the great writing features. There will be a writing challenge in the new year, so keep your writing hats on!

In the middle of Winter what can you do but long for Spring…? I always do. LOL

Thinking Of Spring by © Art Of Ella Brown

Thinking of Spring,
Melting snow,
dream drops patter down from the icicle swords
winter and its fairytale magic.

Under sleeping flowers bent over sadly sleeps,
little hay covered fairies slumbering deep down in the leafy nest.

Crocus sparks under dark soil and begins to spiral out,
colours of a new spring unseen now but there and about.

[…] Read the rest of the poem by clicking on the title of the poem.

And here’s the perfect image to go with it:

Sleeping Beauty Awakes by © VenusOak

Sleeping Beauty Awakes by © VenusOak

How often have you sat like that and thought these very thoughts?

Culture Shock by © lovelyrita

I will never be like you
With your beer bottle in hand
Your hair a parachute, land
on the floor, big feet small shoes.

You wave your Budweiser high
in the air where all can see.
You’re buzzed and you’re a beauty
still – your hands reach for the sky

And I watch you raise the roof
From my lonely letter seat
Wearing shoes to match my feet
I’ll look for lingering proof

[…] Read the rest of the poem by clicking on the title of the poem.

… and another perfect match:

Languishing in the House of Desire II by © restlessd

Languishing in the House of Desire II by © restlessd

Break Open. by © bjeliMis

I am just a stumbling dandelion gone to seed
The wind blowing me away little by little
And all my wishes sealed in my downy seeds
There’s a lot to believe in nowadays
And I don’t know what’s right exactly

[…] Read the rest of the poem by clicking on the title of the poem.

…and yet another image to perfectly work with the poetry… there’s is definitely some sort of synchronicity going on between all of us. 🙂

Woven… by © Susan Ringler

Woven… by © Susan Ringler

Definition of thyself!

by lisameryl

I’m a fragrance
buried in bloom
longing for release

My soul is wailing
unclothed before thee
yearning for cleanse

I’m an onion
to be peeled
layer by layer

My fruits are ripe
taste thyself

beckoning its thirst

[…] Read the rest of the poem by clicking on the title of the poem.

These words felt so familiar that the next image just had to follow. Under the skin we’re all just sisters.

Sisters at heart by © salena

Sisters at heart by © salena

but sometimes things go wrong…

Rape

by ShadowDancer

A smile appears on your face
as you pillage her body and
discard her soul;
as if you told a timid joke
that she could hear
but not understand.

Pain gushes inside of her,
rushing forth like blood
from a morbid wound;
it’s a knife that twists her heart
into a tangled pile of hate.

She is now
but a small scar on the world.
She would rather enter the throne of Hades
than relive that fate-less moment,
for it has reduced her to a painful fear
that she is unable to ignore;
a fear that causes
her to live in a frozen world,
one where she watches
others moving forward
yet she herself no longer knows
how to move on.

[…] Read the rest of the poem by clicking on the title of the poem.

Such a powerful poem and part of what this group is all about. Here’s a powerful image to go with it.

Torn by © VenusOak

Torn by © VenusOak

And finally a story which hopefully makes you smile,too, and a tongue-in-cheek image to let go of the old year with a grin…

this is why we’ll never be grown-ups by © Selkie

This weekend, i had the Crimson Wave.
I think i’ve explained before what this means.
One of the things it means is that i writhe around in agony, darting up in bed gasping and clutching my stomach & scaring the living Hell out of Inuk.
I will digress here a moment (and if that bothers you, then you are reading the wrong blog); one way to judge a member of the Male Tribe is how he deals with the Crimson Wave. If he freaks out at the sight of your menstrual blood and gets mad at you for bleeding on his sheets (accidentally – i’m not a total animal), or can’t handle going with you to the store to get tampons, then he’s probably a Dick and not worth your time.

Grown-ups can deal with such natural occurrences as a woman’s period.

But what if you are Inuk and me?
Here is an example of a typical day when i am riding the Crimson Wave;
Most of the weekend, as is my habit, i just lolled around like a cheap tart in his bed, reading a Madison Smart Bell book, high off my ass on muscle-relaxers. But there were some highlights.

[…] Read the rest by clicking on the title – it’s well worth it!

Murder on the Dance Floor by © Sybille Sterk

Have a brilliant New Year – may it be successful and happy and all you hope for. Thank you for all your support and for making this group as varied and interesting a place it is.

Anna and Sybille xoxo


Midweek Features 24/11/2010

We’re finally finding our stride and here are the midweek features – a mix of art and writing.

Mixed Feelings by ©Agent7

One of my fave images this month. There’s so much to see and understand in this. The technique is fab and the look and feel are great. Perfect to start off the features.

Mixed feelings by Agent7

Mixed feelings by Agent7

Sixty Ticks Of Nothing by ©acquaridan

All the business of life and all the things we need to do, that are expected of us and so little time to just be – perfectly expressed in this poem.

I’m not crazy
Not at all

Seriously

I keep telling myself that
I may just believe it

One of these days

For all intense purposes
No one would suspect a thing
My friend and I we work
In simpatico with each other

We have an understanding
An agreement if you will
To co-exist in a state
Of perpetual normalacy

Normal
What is that

Really

Responsibilities and rules
Governed by obligations
Distinguished with deadlines
Which necessitate compliance

Appointments to keep
Places in which to be
Conversations to be had
Agendas to follow

Stop
Timeout

Sit on the bench

Remove thy mask
Disrobe the facade
Moments of solitude
Minutes of nothingness

Longing to take a breath
With no where to go
Wanting to sit a while
Nowhere to be

Hold it
Wait for it

Release the valve

Stay a while and be
Content with yourself
Let seconds pass you by
You’ll catch up the hours

Take in that which you miss
You must it has missed you too
Absorb the tranquility
Arouse each sense

Craziness
Is not taking a moment

When you need it most

Being consumed by too much
To not know solace and comfort
In moments of serenity
360 degrees 60 ticks
Of peaceful nothing

Thoughts For Company by ©Geraldine (Gezza) Maddrell

There are so many different aspects to women and the introspection and thoughtfulness in this lovely image touched me.

Thoughts For Company by Geraldine (Gezza) Maddrell

Thoughts For Company by Geraldine (Gezza) Maddrell

the weight of life moving forward without you by ©ShadowDancer

A thoughtful and beautiful poem, perfectly encapsulating the mood Geraldine’s image (above).

While butterflies make love on the tips of sunbeams,
my toes sink into the moist moss near the creek,
its crystalline waters move into a symphony
as it soothes its own speckled rocks,
and the scent of honeysuckle seduces the world.

I watch this day pass in slow motion;
I feel the weight of everything that surrounds me,
tasting the heavy flavor of life moving on…

and I wonder
will we ever be together?


Back to earth by ©catrinarno

And here’s yet another aspect of what it means to be a woman. There’s romance but there’s more to this. It’s back to earth with the prize held tightly. Fabulous image, wonderful colours and just that little something extra. 🙂

Back to earth by catrinarno

Back to earth by catrinarno

Word Versus Word by ©H M Bascom

An amazing poem full of truth and the duality of life.

I read a word
it was not a big word
four letters
no more

but this word
though not a big word
had power
to hurt

I wrote a word
a really big word
four letters
no less

and this word
was such a big word
with power
to heal

Feel by ©dorina costras

And here is sensuality and enjoyment in it. The colours and movement in this are wonderful and the message is just what we need to hear, guiltfree and beautiful.

Feel by Dorina Costras

Feel by Dorina Costras

When You Were Born by ©Kristin Reynolds

This really touched me. I still remember that first moment of laying eyes on my son, of holding him. It’s something you never forget.

The moment that my eyes laid claim
to every atom that makes you
beheld upon your ancient face—
each pore, each crease, each shining truth!—

was when my journey to this time,
this when and where became love clear,
that every hurt which spat me out
was meant to bring my love to here.

Each lifetime I give birth to you
(my greatest gift and work of art!)
and as you search my fervent eyes
I see within my own true heart—

it is this now, right now I see
in your sweet face that time is naught,
we have but now, this perfect breath;
you’re every answer I once sought.

And as we lay skin touching skin
beneath this sky we are but one,
just you and I, love, always here:
a mother and her newborn son.

Run your fingers, through my soul by ©madworld

I have to say, the first thing that attracted me to this image was the poetic title. Don’t we all wish for this closeness? The image perfectly shows this. The simplicity of it makes it all the more touching.

Run your fingers, through my soul by Madworld

Run your fingers, through my soul by Madworld

Pecking Order by ©Jenifer DeBellis

Intriguing and thought provoking poetry.

It was just plain Weird

to witness nature in action
completely out of context.

A sea of words
can paint
a single gesture
of body language,
yet how many will see
the intentions
of a premeditated mind?

To find a place to hang
the hat of reason
is the kind of challenge
most won’t even
go out on a limb for.

While breadcrumbs leave a trail
on the floor of a hungry babe’s
fountain of understanding,
only the light of revelation
will illuminate
the tree of knowledge.

Papa bird waits for
Mama’s call of warning
that never reaches the wind
in time to derail
the runaway train.

Here the tide washes in,
reeking in ways
that can’t be explained
with a small handful
of pearly, cute-shaped words.

The night owl
watches from a branch
just beyond sight,
mumbling warnings
about the day’s last flight
into the dawn of reality.

It was the weirdest thing
to witness, and weirder still
was the eerie silence.

Even the wind died on deaf ears.

i don’t mind waiting… by ©clancy214

And here the finale – what a lovely image, so full of longing and hope and fulfillment. Perfect to end the features. 🙂

i don't mind waiting... by clancy214

i don't mind waiting... by clancy214

Bitter Sweet by ©Vickie Bodie

Beautiful poem, thoughtful, and, yes, bitter sweet. Do you remember your first kiss?

Should each bit of Life
Be tasted like a Kiss
Bitter Sweet

Yet linger on
the end of the tongue
tasted off the lip

Full of desire and Passion
with the purity
of the innocents

Or

Should it be like
the fire that burns
within that first kiss

Should that first kiss then
be the only kiss
and remain
Bitter Sweet