Colors of life

By the sea

hues find me with eagerness

filling in the blanks with drops

captured image on cotton of white,

creation of beauty

sweeping me away

the boundaries I try to stay within.

Tie-dye shell of my hearts whimsy

I close my eyes and see the scene

a hundred souls running towards the sea

free from the shell

bliss in being alive,

we swim into the unknown

taking chances and learning with each stroke

how to swim in waves of colors unknown.

I hear the sound of waves from memory,

sweeping me over their frothy waves

and carrying me towards the setting sun

low on horizon

the internal compass knows the way

as I follow the stars

as I may.

My last art class for now, a sea turtle with an amazing group of women and although I do need a bit of touch up on the eye where the splatter got a bit too close (had to rush to work and should have taken the extra minute of care) I am quite happy with this almost finished product and thought I’d share. Happy turtles make me smile 🙂 peace and blessings, K

this and that

Wet on wet

color thrown about like random thoughts

little here and little there

a bit of this and that.

Salt falls on puddles random like rain

and we never know in the end

what will remain of our pieces of self

washing back and forth

steady movement forming rainbows of peace

and I gaze to the jasmine beyond

knowing it’s one step closer to understanding

and life will keep moving

like wet paint on soft cotton,

smooth and flowing

or beautiful in the accidental splash

of a word cast on the world,

it all falls down as we let ourselves go

to flow into the rhythm

of another hour passed by

unaware of it all

except the here and now.

More time today practicing with my watercolors, I’m thinking I may turn into the tie dye queen of art yet 🙂 but loving it and always learning with each stroke, surprised at times by what comes from a blank slate.

Calming 

We unite in thoughts
caught in shades and hues of life,
how we feel
like afterthoughts caught,
unexpectedly stinging like a solemn bee
just hanging about
doing its thing
lashing out because
threatened things do what they do
and you cant hate the things that cause pain
when its the little needling thoughts
that keep doing their thing,
so no surprise
when welts arise
and a tear is shed
because for that moment
we had become unconnected
from the natural world,
dwelling in potions
poisons
things that dull
and like Alice meandering through
searching for the cat and tea party,
looking like deer in the headlights,
and we fall into the rabbit hole once more.
So we stop,
and breathe,
and be,
because what else can one do to make sense,
to lose ones self into the purple haze
of quiet days
where no answers are needed
and the best moments are to be
drifting on the calm
beneath purple skies
wondering what it was
that disrupted us to begin with
and always leaves us at the end of the day
when can we return
even with the jolt that delivered us,
knowing as our bodies become grounded
that we just need to be there
where the silence calls
and we know the words of that song
by heart.
We’ve been here before
a lifetime ago,
fancy how things talk to us
in their own special way,
I like to think at times
it’s like going home again
even if a sky and universe away….
we still remember
because of the unconscious sting
that raises to remind
it is all relative.

Upon a thought of movement

We are quicksand lives

mired and murky in their naivety

waiting for the next flash of something

anything to change the colors that spin

out of our control

like dancing fireflies which mesmerize

we fall silent in their beauty,

in their simplicity.

Jealous in fact I think,

as they flit about like monarchs

so seldom seen yet still revered,

we watch in fascination

enraptured by their beauty

longing to be light

buoyant like air.

Skies change like minds

suddenly

quickly as each day passes

and we move in our directions

when the light changes granting pardon

and we scurry across like rabbits watched

by waiting dogs,

never knowing when the texter may move forward

unaware at what transpires behind the wheel

though in the wrong

clueless to the life that moves

beyond the capsule

of airbags and roll bars,

a hapless victim of the new day.

We heed the call within

at times understanding the words unspoken,

to breathe and move

in an unhurried pace,

to reflect and embrace

to just be at one for a minute

while the stars pass by

unnoticed at times

when framed in the image

of a spring time moon.

Painting life

Colors caught in a favorite pose,

moonlit skies on clouds it rests

caught like a marble suspended

I learn to flow through the brush.

Where I’ve been on quiet days

pondering the landscape of sun and haze

mixing and matching the color to mood

purple sky hue.

This is my first official watercolor painting, still in progress (mostly working the water) and I was actually quite pleased with the results, which for me is saying a lot. Just in case you’ve been wondering where I’ve been, one more class next week and practice, practice and more practice needed. Moon over water….by me.

Work in color

He opens his box of shapes and sizes
No surprises
colors fleeing on windswept clouds
astounded he stares
for each time he opens his box of things
he feels the joy it brings.
He pries back the board so tenderly
afraid for the day
they don’t come out to play
but they know him well,
his favorite shades that bring a light to each day,
playing their role
they soar like birds on ocean breezes
above him, his box releases
without further adeiu
for me and you.
He has to create
these pastel whimsied worlds
for it is his nature
and he knows no other way,
a magician of life he gives away
a piece of himself each day
from the bottomless well he says feels often dry
so his tears he cries
never knowing that each drop that falls
fills that magic box he carries,
he openly shares
for in beauty and love he knows will grow
as the color moves outward
touching each soul
his work in color is never done,
each day has just begun
and the supply paints the world
glistening drops of beauty
filling voids where broken ugliness hides
keeping him alive.

Hues of mist

Swirling dappled mist

grey balanced on water green

into blue they move

keeping watch for something

in their mind

living their life of calm.

Flapping wings lift through

haze of shadows reflect the light

creeping through to burn a hole

to seep into the poets soul.

Water sprays on endless rock

as fishermen wait with patient airs

and the flock moves bobbing on tiny waves

as we walk into the murky haze.

Days of new I see here now

the wings of beauty draw closer somehow

and sit beside they pose a spell

then flying off into the cloud

I wish them well.

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Going, going…see ya.
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Look at me….
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Goodbye…gone fishing
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Seeping through…

Color of peace

Words move through a mind
Gazing at gentle colors
as peace flows through the veins
like lifeblood.
Gentle blooms gather
swimming in a blue hued world
sitting patiently waiting
for a gaze to find them,
shy beauties stand proud
adorning the world with a calm
as each day passes
smiles become plentiful.
A petal to save
no love me nots
just a bouquet of love you
filling my heart and soul
with happy.
Discount blooms
priceless to the receiver
filling the world around me
where they never grow wild,
just captive in a tub
till chosen
rescued from withering
by a loving hand.

He likes to buy me flowers, and they give such a beautiful colorful lift to our home, cherished and loved. pS….the lavender lasted about a week and a half…i seem to do better with fresh cut flowers😊

Blue room waves

The blue room poet moves through

An apparition of color

Waves seeking to catch

The watchful eye

As I walk on by.

Ghostly light filtered in a rainbow

Yet when captured

Only hues of blues remain

And the walls welcome the serenity

Of a thought set loose

Riding the wave of a quiet peace 

Fan moves in gentle circles

As I drift away.

Paint job all finished on the room and the hurriacaine shutters on the Windows left rainbows on the walls, but when I took the picture, only purple and blue remained even though I could physically see all the Reds, yellow,orange,green, etc….must be the blue room ghost. The candle holder on the table, three monkeys….see no evil, hear no evil and of course speak no evil….


My desk isn’t in yet but the couch and table is inviting me to write….sorry for the grainy shots…will attempt some better ones, and my “art piece” on wood….I think an elephant painted it….I call it beautiful mess….or lightning cactus….

Welcome to the den and writing hideaway….peace all, K

Blue room poet

I am the blue room poet,

Sea spray hue fills the senses as I look past the window

Watching life move,

Watercolor dreams falling through my thoughts

As a quiet peace fills my soul with calm.

Pieces put together,

Ocean view colored walls

A place to sit and ponder,

A room to fill with beauty.

Each day will pass by slowly as the ocean waves move endlessly

With or without

We remain here filling spaces

New places from the old

Turning home into the need

Just a space to think,

To breathe

As silence fills the night as the sun goes falling down

The gentle moon will rise

And cast its silken glow

On the special place

Where a poet dwells

Creating words spun from a blue room.

Just finished painting the room which is where my desk will again reside, sea spray blue is the chosen color with white trim and oak floor. Once put back together, I will capture a pic of where I create, but for now, I’m too pooped to move everything back in, so just a reflective poem instead…..as Lionel sings to me from the kitchen…..Truly…..

Peace and blessings, K