Overheard

The Sunday Whirl: Wordle #265
http://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com

authenticity, talk, love, doubt, pain, tilt,
break, gossip, meet, wild, listen, lean

The Sunday Whirligig: Wordle #76
http://sundayswhirligig.blogspot.com/

hush, crying, missing, cheese, chocolate, ending,
jagged, rubbing, proper, alphabet, wealth, neighbors

Poets United: Poetry Pantry #319
http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/

gossip

Overheard

Authenticity of love might go missing
when gossip, or doubt , tilt jagged talk
which neighbors listen to while breakfasting
on left over cheese and chocolate.

Might be hushed by pain and soft crying
when only bits of truth meet wild imagination,
only interested in rubbing wealth of maybes,
over an ending of satisfying titillation .

Genuine caring becomes lean, perhaps
even lost, in this far from proper alphabet
soup of negative speculation. Nothing
good comes of this overheard sharing.

Elizabeth Crawford  9/11/2016

Notes: This wasn’t exactly where I was heading when I started, but the words were adamant about where they wanted to go. Interesting to note, when I went looking on the web for images of ‘gossip’, the first set of images (over 20 stacked like the one above), had only two male participants. I preferred Rockwell’s truer perspective. I did use all of the words.

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Posted in Overheard | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 16 Comments

Welcome To The Kdala Gallery

Attention

scan_20150921k7

 

 

Have finally put together a new gallery of images. Please take a look and tell me what you think.

https://soulsmusic.wordpress.com/kdala-gallery/

Thanks

 

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Sometimes, Cinderella

Sunday’s Whirligig: Wordle #75
http://sundayswhirligig.blogspot.com/

shape, milk, feet, play, bird, car,
dirt, love, brick, theme, diary, pumpkin

The Sunday Whirl: Whirl #26
https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/

lightness, bee, cuttlefish, sparkle, shine, flake
mutable, veiled, precise, ignorant, tapestry, threat

Poets United: Poetry Pantry #318
http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/

escher-unraveling

Sometimes, Cinderella

Time goes mute when bee of memory
shines its light on tapestry of past. Becomes

a veil of sepia stain, like the cuttlefish that
doesn’t threaten but stuns precise prey

with its venom. Ignorant victim is lost
in sparkle of one moment. Flake of time

that might never have happened.

Theme of lost love freezes feet, turning
them to dirt-colored bricks. Shapely tricks

that sour milk and impede any movement.
Splayed fingers play with page from diary.

Just another bird on the wire, she watches
as her carriage, once again, becomes

a hollowed out pumpkin.

Elizabeth Crawford – 9/4/2016

Notes: Did use all of the words. Had to look up cuttlefish and found some interesting information. It is considered the most intelligent of its kind, and does release a sepia like die that paralyses its victim. Some of the words were a bit of a reach, but I choose to call that poetic license. Image is from the internet.

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Article of Faith

The Sunday Whirl: Wordle #263
https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/

bless, only, left, enter, brush, turn,
part, free, plate, cross, post, count

Sunday’s Whirligig: Wordle #74
http://sundayswhirligig.blogspot.com/

scornful, harsh, old, silly, cry, serene,
infant, dreams, senseless, smite, absolution, songs

Poets United: Poetry Pantry #317
http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/

Reflection ManipulatedPhotograph by Elizabeth Crawford

Reflection
ManipulatedPhotograph
by
Elizabeth Crawford

Article of Faith

Perhaps I am in need of absolution?
Forgiveness for singing these old, silly songs,
poems considered by some as senseless.

Ones that seem harsh, just this side
of scornful, while others are serene,
like an infant drifting in milky dreams.

Yet, each one counts as some part of me.
Sign posts marking crossroads, a turning
to left or right on entering new pathways.

Only brushing lightly at certain corners,
while freely diving deeply into others.
Cries of both blessings and sorrows.

Would a loving Deity smite me for following
this path, for nurturing self from this plate
others might find lacking in substance?

No. I don’t believe so.

Elizabeth Crawford  8/28/16

Notes: I have been working for what seems forever, on my Poetic Memoir. Over the past few weeks I’ve been seeing what I hope is the finish line. These two word lists wouldn’t seem to go in any other direction.

The image is a photograph manipulated with a Kaleidoscope App. And I used all of the words.

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Unusual Rose

Sunday’s Whirligig: Wordle #70
http://sundayswhirligig.blogspot.com/

sheep, gras, waters, chilly, enemies, worry,
watch, wobbles, chair, safe, side, spill

The Sunday Whirl: Wordle #259
https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/

train, unfettered, family, grill, check, sing,
flower, thrust, twist, run, page, finish

Poets United: Poetry Pantry #313
http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/

7

Unusual Rose

Unfettered flower
spills across page,
relieving herself
of chilly raindrops,
thrusting color
at beholder, singing
song of deep purple
elegance, unleashed.

Elizabeth Crawford

Notes: No, its not my usual, only used a few words from each list. Had spent some time with the above image, which I found on the internet. Had those images in mind, when I finally looked at the words. So, I wrote about what was already in my head. To make up for the brevity of words, I want to share some of the images that occurred when I put the image through the kaleidoscope app.

7a

7d

7j

And that’s only a few of them.

Hope you have a wonderful day.

PS. Once again, I am not being allowed to leave comments. My apologies until I find a way to fix the problem. E.

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Yet, Another “Yes” Vote

The Sunday Whirl: Wordle #258
https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/

first, call, smell, look, tide, dissolve,
branch, spin, trip, vote, give, spell

Sunday’s Whirligig: Wordle #69
http://sundayswhirligig.blogspot.com/

garden, hummingbird, hover, weeds, burdock, peony,
patterns, softening, stem, dwindle, loss, whirring

Poets United: Poetry Pantry #312
http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/

peony-flower-10

Yet, Another “Yes” Vote

That first call came so long ago,
am amazed it hasn’t dissolved
in whirring patterns of seasonal tides
inside hummingbird memory.

Hovers there, amidst tall weeds,
burdock of loss, never softens, or dwindles.
Still spinning its spell, enticing smell,
and look of trip worth taking.

Sturdy stem, as thick as tree branch,
constantly gives support, as I once
again, lift myself toward imaginary
garden and these peonies of poetry.

Elizabeth Crawford  7/24/16

notes: When I stop and think of the fact that I have been writing for almost forty years, I sometimes feel tired. Like last week, and when I’m tired, I get ornery and rebellious, and turn away. This week, after collecting both word lists, my eyes fell on those two first words, first, and call, and the first line was dancing through my head, immediately followed by most of the rest of them. Have to admit that the call to poetry is the strongest one I own, and am not sure that is always a good thing. Yet, it also carries one of the greatest bits of satisfaction when completed. I did use all of the words. Image is from the internet.

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A Child’s Laughter

Sunday’s Whirligig: Wordle #67
http://sundayswhirligig.blogspot.com/

have, reason, filled, when, room, child,
love, irrational, blooms, wild, season, bright

The Sunday Whirl: Wordle #256
https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/

wit, twinkle, shock, quilt, weep, warmth,
spice, laugh, lift, can, grow, bird

Poets United: Poetry Pantry #310
http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/

Betty Lou Crawford age 2

A Child’s Laughter

A room filled with childish laughter
blooms with bright warmth no matter
the season, or reason for wild antics
that may have brought on such music.

Spills a quilt of love over its occupants
and lifts spirits like small birds playing
in sunlight. Can grow a twinkle in eye
of sadness, that might have wept only

a moment before. Shock irrational fear
into making an exit, or turn it into wit
when sprinkled into that space like spice
of long ago, fresh baked apple pie.

Elizabeth Crawford 7/9/16

Notes: When I first saw the two word lists, the image of a room resounding children’s laughter came into my head. Wouldn’t go away, so it became the poem. Used all of the words. Photo is me at age two and a half.

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