|thanks for dropping by...please explore & enjoy in FULL view|
|here are some select works of mine that received awards in juried all-media shows or other special recognition; please enjoy in FULL view|
ShroudI want to cut out my organsShroud by Rosary0fSighs
proffer them up, beating and red
dirty pretty things lying
still as death, wrapped in silk.
Milk teeth white with secrets
hollow with regret - one breath
exhaling fingernails; crescent moons,
luminescent with guilt, dressed
in sorrow desperate for utterance.
The stuttered sounds of eyelids shutting in the night
lungs filled with candlelight and silver flash
gash lips useless and stained with so much unsaid.
Silent epitaphs treading words
as heavy as a grave
the weight of a hole
Soft Shells and Buried Shipsmy mind drifts in piecesSoft Shells and Buried Ships by Rosary0fSighs
the wax moon drip drips
onto the pane of the window
and down the side of the wall, wailing
across the floor to the soles
of my bare feet
my skin is as pale as the moon
crescent as fingernails tapping sos morse conspiracies on hardwood,
trying hopelessly to carve them into oars
to row out of a mad sea the colour of wine -
my flesh stripped bare to white naked bone
skull peeled back;
the hemispheres of my brain exposed
swallowed into the black hole
of a silk veil.
a damp sphere left to ferment
that I eat like an orange
a strange fruit
bitter and sweet on my tongue
gun powder and molasses
heavy and full of shadows.
I taste of hope and death
in equal measure.
I breathe paper lanterns and the mouth of eulogies
scattering promises and the snowflake petals
of morgues and warm breath in the space between ribs
aching bodies unmade and lips pressing kisses into
pages across palms and psalms and whisper-sweet
it's in the butter
slice it sweet and slice
MotherhoodMaybe I'm just worried that my carelessnessMotherhood by childwoman
Will follow me into motherhood -
The way I dented my boss's truck when I was 18
And then lied about it
Might mean that when the bough breaks
And I fail, inevitably, to catch the cradle
Lying won't be enough
But it will be all that I can think to do
Maybe I'm worried that the worst in me
Will become the worst in my child
The way I lose my temper with you for no reason
And then blame you
Might mean that when I show my love through a sharp tongue
And I fail, inevitably, to realise the damage done
Apologies won't be enough
But they will be all that I have left to try
Maybe I'm just worried that my love for you
Will be sacrificed to our love for a baby
And that there'll be nothing else -
Will that mean that we have died
And only a new life survives in ashes
Maybe it's not enough
But maybe that will be everything
Stories From the Psych Ward (2 of 3)I'm so cold I feel it down to the bones,Stories From the Psych Ward (2 of 3) by Rosary0fSighs
sitting in the dining hall trembling
over my cup of tea. A huge Christmas
tree twinkles merrily beside me in red, blue, silver, pink and gold.
Patients huddle together outside to talk,
but I'm forbidden to join them,
trapped inside the ward on a category four.
They're all strangers to me, I've spoken to no one.
Smoking their cigarettes in faded pajamas,
looking tired and worn down,
lips twisting into smiles as the smoke
curls down into their lungs.
Nurses find me hiding from evil spirits in the cupboard.
They let me stay inside, safe until the panic stops and
the shadows disappear, give me blankets
to stay warm, until they take me by the hand and lead me out.
Two psychiatrists come to speak with me
While insects pour from my lips
And satellites speak of the death of stars
The voices scream at me
But I talk.
They want me to trust them
They want me to stay alive.
A nurse takes six canisters of my blood,
a deep frothy red. It pours out of my
|I no longer participate on or any other social media sites and have no desire to do so.|
I infrequently comment on s I make unless I feel compelled by what I am seeing, reading.
If you comment, I almost always will reply.
I sometimes send notes and other private correspondence and reply to same.
Currently most of my time is limited to weekends.
For the time being, I do not join groups, but I very much appreciate requests to display my art with them and participate accordingly.
Unless the number of deviations is too voluminous, I strive to review most if not all the works available in the galleries of those I watch.
I respect the work and efforts of all artists here at and elsewhere. All my work is copyright protected so if you have a need or desire to use it other than as a collected or featured deviation, please seek my permission in advance.
To all my watchers, llama givers, casual visitors, invisible lurkers, other unknown viewers and all those who my work: Thank you so much for your support!
To those I watch and or otherwise attend, thank you for the art you bring into the world. It surrounds my life with joy and lightness of being!