Entangled

My life is so entangled
upon the fingers of God
that I cannot even take
a single breath
without rejoicing
that the shape of it
is defined by His presence.

Silver Tears

This image was inspired by Justinian's poem, posted below. If you click through, the link will take you to my gallery, where a larger version is available for viewing. Please visit Justinian's blog, as well, where you will enjoy more of his work.

Hours Before the Dawn

and such dreams that arise
the flesh is weak and despised
but hollow eyes cry silver tears
like starlight streaming in rivulets
down each tiny crack and crevase
of the face; hopes and dreams displaced,
hiding beneath the masque of sanity
and the ultimate banality
of day to day living seems an interminable chore.
oh, how the mighty have fallen!
such Ozymandian splendor, the waste
caused by hubris and decay! and the day
comes when one of the titan’s children
shall rise and swallow the whole globe,
dread Hesperon from subterranean throne
ruling all vengful passions with
the iron fist of fleshly pleasure;
O Fair, where are the simple, innocent joys
once enjoyed? and where the quiet dream,
the star-stuff of which we all are made
fades, is sucked into the black hole
of desperate denial and blacker rage.
O Fair, where are the pleasant dreams of you?

Poem by Justinian
Used in the above image and posted here with permission.

Loss of Faith

Quiet, quiet

the words proceed
shaping out of paper
and glue the form
of the one
you're speaking to
like and not
as a symbol
of what is inside
half-formed by phrases
and misshapen thought
pray, pray
yourself the center
and look out upon
what you've created
melted, half-gone
and do not wonder
that there is no
worshiping
the shadows
of mistaken identity

---

Photo:  20% Fat  

Eat Well, My Son

Excuse me 'cause my sandwich has a peanut.
I tell you I might never go back there,
for the serious chef over by the counter
has a knife raised high above his deadly glare.
I tried to eat the center of the meatloaf
and I swallowed every bite of my old gum;
for the chef whose eyes are narrowed with a purpose
seems to have a locker where he keeps a gun.
Oh, mother, I'd have listened when you taught me
how to swallow things that rise up in my throat
if I knew that you intended, in my childhood,
to save my life from chefs who rave and gloat.

---

And my laptop is working again! Yay!

Tangle Fingers in Color and Pull

This is one of those times ... of waiting, of hesitation, of confusion.

The best way to break out of these times is to do something different, creatively. So, I put away the black markers, pulled out the new fine-tipped colored sharpies I bought a couple weeks ago, stuck contact paper on my laptop, and drew on it, in hopes that my charging cord will arrive in the mail soon, thus making this effort worthwhile.

I'm also making a bulletin board collage for my kitchen, but that's still in process.

Good friends help with the breaking-out too. I've got plenty of them, so here's hoping I'll be back to a daily post  soon. In the meantime,... life goes on.

How to People-Watch in the City

It is easy to watch people, and from watching to learn, and from learning to know, and from knowing to befriend, and from befriending to ... well ... lots of things. At least, that's how it works in smaller communities.

But in my recent experience, the mass of humanity that surges through larger cities has a slightly different response to people watching. There is an almost pervasive tendency to not look (even if one was) to not notice (even if one did) and to generally pretend that one has all the privacy that one might have--say--in the woods, with only the bears and a few wild butterflies to attend to one's activities.

This pretense is upheld by a few basic practices in which I will now instruct you. (We shall note that this series of observations has been filtered down through my own mind, and thus may be highly inapplicable for anyone else.)

In case the focus of your interest has somehow, against all odds, also noticed you amid the thousands of possible faces toward which they might glance, one can easily maintain the illusion of their privacy by practicing the techniques listed below.

1. The Redirect
To the left, right, or even above the individual there is sure to be some advertisement or sign to which your eyes might attend, thus making the focus of your prior gaze think that perhaps you were not looking at them. One may accompany this with a brief verbal commentary to make it seem more realistic. "What a fascinating!... local law office nameplate ..."

2. The Slow Drift
This is ideal for situations where there is a lot to look at, like scenery or stores in a mall. In this case you gradually let your eyes drift away while schooling your face into an expression of searching or interest. This will persuade the focus of your watch that you were not noticing them, but rather wondering where your comrade has gone or considering the wonders of the view.

3. The Sudden Turn
Nearby friends or changes in circumstance help make this seem more natural. Without acknowledging the focus of your gaze, you leap into activity, thus persuading them that actually you were wondering when the light would change or enjoying a conversation with your friends, and not paying attention to them at all.

If you don't care to maintain the illusion of privacy you can always attempt a smile or greeting. However, city dwellers may respond in strange and unfamiliar ways, such as shock, annoyance, or fear. Just imagine how you would feel if you were out in the wilderness and some bear stared at you while you were enjoying a nice ramble along a back trail on your way to work....

---

Photographs of Chicago from my trip this week ... by Karen Eck

I am away ... tomorrow more than yesterday

This is what I've been up to whilst not being a reliable blogger. And I'm gone (on a trip, not just not posting) until Thursday. So, here are some images to tide you over until I get my laptop fixed ... or post again ... whichever comes first.

A sculpted lighthouse-ish item ...

Plain old pen has its benefits ... Like shading. I'd forgotten, somehow. I still prefer strong lines, but this is rather cool....

As are dragons.

More of my drawings in  L.L. Barkat's book, InsideOut:  Poems. (Photos posted with permission). I edited out some of the poems in the photos, partially to make it clear which lines prompted the image, and partially because I think you should buy the poetry book to read her beautiful words. Oh, and there's a repeat ... but I edited the image after posting it before and like it much better now.

Page 54 Snow... Look closely.

Actually, I drew more in there, but there are a lot of photos already. So I'll leave it for now.

(Sorry for the small sizes. Now that I'm on a normal screen I realize just how small this is. I uploaded a few to my art site so if you click on the image you can get a larger view. The rest will have to wait till I get back. Oh, and I'll change my photobucket settings for next time.)

Have a lovely week!

Inverted Vision

When all is vanity, vanity, vanity
and vainglory steals
the light from your eyes;
then is the time
to turn from the shadows,
eyes out of self,
who must be despised.
There is no inner source
for law or for virtue,
no matter how honest
the mental intent,
for all that may be
is already accomplished
by the only One worthy,
of holy descent.
When the light of the eye
is focused on Jesus
then the darkness of self
must die in its glare.
Self-righteous?
Self-despising?
Clearly the focus
remains on the shadow
and gets you nowhere.
You were never the source
of the light you are seeking
and trying to find it
inside will defeat.
Refocus and find
that the light
casts long shadows,
but obstructions are burned
into dust when they meet.

----

Thought prompted by Justinian's " Silence"

----
Side-note:
My laptop fell on its power cord. I'm currently awaiting the replacement cord from Amazon to see if that will fix the charging problem. If not, I'll be laptop-less for much longer, awaiting repair of the power connections within the machine. *mourns* As you can see, this has resulted in limiting my posting here, mostly because this computer is used by the entire family. It also has curtailed sharing and editing my art most severely.

Anyway, here's hoping it's just the charging cord that was damaged and not the computer. You might not miss me, but I certainly miss posting here and keeping in touch with everyone's blogs.

Real Lives

Beneath my feet the glistening path
of polished cut and fired gold
the place you say is my true home
bloody prints left by each step
on jeweled stairs upward
your way.

Soft ferns brush my face
I pass
they catch
embedded masks and layers nailed
on cheekbone and forehead
which your hand
pries away.

Soft robe surrounds my aching form
as knives still anchor skin to bone
I wince even as I feel warmed
within your arms
myself
I lay.

And as the real
bright and strong
casts away the shadowed wrong
and wraps in rest this weary heart
so often blind to all the worth
amid the choices and the hurt
of harder path and narrow ways
and valleys deep where death still claims
that it has won despite the fact
that you have done
the miracle you wrap me
through
and in your name
I pray.

My eyes are open now
I see you
though it may fade
I know and choose
this treasure here
your presence frames this place
for me
but for the hurt it would not be
but for the struggle I'd not know
but for the sorrow I'd not grow
all this is shaped as you prepare
my heart to live with you
to stay.

I could not choose the vacant stare
unknowing laughter
blinded thought
contented self and empty hope
for it would be a poor exchange
my way for yours
reward
unclaimed in ease and wavering
softened form
not knowing loss nor you or home
better the pain
for all I claim
outweighs suffering
every day.

Living Fragile Strong

living
fragile-strong
shattered
yet enduring
clinging to a
framework
dangling
and glistening
in the light
like raindrops
and prisms
clashed together
and strung
upon the breath
of truth
suspended
within words
that cannot be
broken

Consumed

Poetry of form.

Eventually it may gain words, but for today ...

...

Drawn for my dear friend who lost her grandfather yesterday.

The Gift

Wrapped in a smile
and boxed up in thought
untie ribbons of love,
so tangled knot of laughter
with joy, glistening confetti,
may tumble out,
pouring over
lifted lid,
explode.
Discover:
A feather to wear
that can help hope to fly.
A rainbow that grows
from the tears in your eyes.
Bubbles that glisten
with songs yet to sing.
Jewels for a crown
of wisdom.
A ring made of honor
and a vase filled with light.
Baked cakes of truth
sweet on your tongue.
Late night dreams
quilted carefully
and stitched by peace.
How a gift can
expand!
May the flow
never cease.

Empty Vessel

Today there is less
of me than yesterday
or ever before
all I can offer is
...
empty in state
and vacant with
nothing to give
no pretense to offer
or facade to maintain
...
All there is to give
is Christ.