Painting and poetry
- Thread starter Capt Insano Emeritis
- Start date
Saw this piece to share
Finally working on an acrylic seascape as a thank you I promised to friends who helped us remodel our house last year. It's a bit cliché as a subject but they absolutely love Cannon Beach. Struggling some having not painted in a few years but think it's starting to gel.
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My oldest daughter raises beautiful goats in Colorado. She asked me to do a small painting of her Little Patch Farm goats. She makes goat milk products for sale there and other items. Anyway all my daughter had to was ask and she helped me pick up a paintbrush-again for this tiny painting-4x5”
Promises Broken
It has been too many years
Since I fished it…
This little black jewel
Favorite little river
Near the coast
At the cusp of salt
That I have loved
For decades now...
Inconsequential it seems?
As it has been
To my surprise eviscerated
With clear cutting
Silt run off
Filling holding water
Convinced that I need
To be more aware
Get more active
Be an advocate
for things I love
I feel ashamed
That I didn't know...
Did anyone speak up?
In the din of quiet…
It created jobs in the woods…
The new green is
The color of mud and sand
Toppled trees and under story
Of devils club, scrub alder
And Himalayan blackberries...
And a sanctity
Of promises broken.
It has been too many years
Since I fished it…
This little black jewel
Favorite little river
Near the coast
At the cusp of salt
That I have loved
For decades now...
Inconsequential it seems?
As it has been
To my surprise eviscerated
With clear cutting
Silt run off
Filling holding water
Convinced that I need
To be more aware
Get more active
Be an advocate
for things I love
I feel ashamed
That I didn't know...
Did anyone speak up?
In the din of quiet…
It created jobs in the woods…
The new green is
The color of mud and sand
Toppled trees and under story
Of devils club, scrub alder
And Himalayan blackberries...
And a sanctity
Of promises broken.
The Beguine
I want a mate
A piscatorial friend
The water calls
Someone I met again
During mating season
In the water so gin clear
And evocative and near
It makes my Finny heart
Sing as bubbles dance
To the crystal surface
Sending ripples
Across this life
I swim and leap
To the air above
And my fishy heart
Sings in joyous love
My Fin heart
Where are you now?
How can you be
This perfect mate
For me?
Let the mating begin
As the waters call
As I know of no other
To begin the beguine
I want a mate
A piscatorial friend
The water calls
Someone I met again
During mating season
In the water so gin clear
And evocative and near
It makes my Finny heart
Sing as bubbles dance
To the crystal surface
Sending ripples
Across this life
I swim and leap
To the air above
And my fishy heart
Sings in joyous love
My Fin heart
Where are you now?
How can you be
This perfect mate
For me?
Let the mating begin
As the waters call
As I know of no other
To begin the beguine
So i started a large painting 7 or 8 months ago got busy with the gardening schtick all summer and into the fall. I had used frisket on the layout of the painting and set it aside through that whole time and for the last couple weeks have had a hell of a time removing the baked frisket. Heat is not its friend. Anyway i have been basically doing restoration work on it to begin painting again… aargh! I will be damned if i am tossing a $30 piece of 300 lb watercolor paper. I eventually get stuff done.. here is where i am with it
Moms 97th birthday is in a few days
Poem for mom
I remember a day when
My mother was a lot taller
Than me and my brother
I still look up to her
Memories of then
Makes me think of when…
Seemingly not so long ago
Mind images and thoughts
Come to me of
Trips to the beach
And mom playing with me
By the sea
One day long ago
A neighbor friend and me
Decided to play a bit of ball
And throw it around a while
Allan was a bit wild
And threw to mom
Way too hard
I got mad and thought
Allan was being so bad
Was being a protective child
And mom just laughed
Another time playing
Little League ball
Mom was there with Dad
Rooting for our team
Yelling and clapping like mad
Mom spent a lot of time
At our area ball parks
Sometimes we would just
Hop into the Ford
Take a trip on a lark
Mom was always watchful
Keeping an eye on
Whether Dad knew
Where he was going
“ your Dad found every
Dead end road in Washington.”
She said and thnks to her,
Our copilot,
We never really got lost
Always came home safe
Mom is always a rock
Of the metamorphic kind
Adjusting to all challenges
Dealing with everything
That comes along
With balanced perspective
And a sharp mind
So here is to Regina
My mom on her 97th birthday!
I am blessed to know
And to be her oldest son
First born and that took a while
It takes longer every time
When my birthday story comes up
She talks about that hospital visit
I felt cherished growing up
I didn’t turn out too bad
All because of Mom and Dad
Hooray to Mom!
Regina is her name
The queen of all moms
I will always say.
Poem for mom
I remember a day when
My mother was a lot taller
Than me and my brother
I still look up to her
Memories of then
Makes me think of when…
Seemingly not so long ago
Mind images and thoughts
Come to me of
Trips to the beach
And mom playing with me
By the sea
One day long ago
A neighbor friend and me
Decided to play a bit of ball
And throw it around a while
Allan was a bit wild
And threw to mom
Way too hard
I got mad and thought
Allan was being so bad
Was being a protective child
And mom just laughed
Another time playing
Little League ball
Mom was there with Dad
Rooting for our team
Yelling and clapping like mad
Mom spent a lot of time
At our area ball parks
Sometimes we would just
Hop into the Ford
Take a trip on a lark
Mom was always watchful
Keeping an eye on
Whether Dad knew
Where he was going
“ your Dad found every
Dead end road in Washington.”
She said and thnks to her,
Our copilot,
We never really got lost
Always came home safe
Mom is always a rock
Of the metamorphic kind
Adjusting to all challenges
Dealing with everything
That comes along
With balanced perspective
And a sharp mind
So here is to Regina
My mom on her 97th birthday!
I am blessed to know
And to be her oldest son
First born and that took a while
It takes longer every time
When my birthday story comes up
She talks about that hospital visit
I felt cherished growing up
I didn’t turn out too bad
All because of Mom and Dad
Hooray to Mom!
Regina is her name
The queen of all moms
I will always say.
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Head and Heart
Shadows fall on words
Muffled and obscure
My Intent of thoughts are
Well meaning and secure
In this head of mine
Yet I wonder if the time
Is right for the obtuse
And interpersonally sublime
Spontaneity is king
A royal slather on the wing
If no one cares or brings
A brief encounter or comment
What does any of it mean
Perhaps idiosyncrasy
A display of confusion and thought
Unhinged, unrelated to
the understanding of naught
This is a free for all
of words meant for all
To determine if sanity
Is for all thought
Words dance through
My head and heart
And convey in disarray
A kind of battle fought.
Head and heart
A kind of battle, fought
Endlessly...
Shadows fall on words
Muffled and obscure
My Intent of thoughts are
Well meaning and secure
In this head of mine
Yet I wonder if the time
Is right for the obtuse
And interpersonally sublime
Spontaneity is king
A royal slather on the wing
If no one cares or brings
A brief encounter or comment
What does any of it mean
Perhaps idiosyncrasy
A display of confusion and thought
Unhinged, unrelated to
the understanding of naught
This is a free for all
of words meant for all
To determine if sanity
Is for all thought
Words dance through
My head and heart
And convey in disarray
A kind of battle fought.
Head and heart
A kind of battle, fought
Endlessly...
Nelly was a friends dog and i said I would tie one up from her white under fur
Time
Time flies on calliope wings
A moment of melodic slumber
Then , just then
Between and awoken
By a silent cry
That was me
Thought encumbered.
Time flies on calliope wings
A moment of melodic slumber
Then , just then
Between and awoken
By a silent cry
That was me
Thought encumbered.
North Country
Greener than green
Rolling forest
Awe inspiring fertile
Trees that go on…
Forever evergreen
Wild yet managed
Can we tell?
Stories of the woods?
The woods…
If we imagine
Camp two
Camp three
A resource boundless
That we could see.
Well we know
It’s a product
That is becoming
Rarer by the day.
Forever evergreen
Wild yet managed
Can we tell
Stories of the woods?
Greener than green
Rolling forest
Awe inspiring fertile
Trees that go on…
Forever evergreen
Wild yet managed
Can we tell?
Stories of the woods?
The woods…
If we imagine
Camp two
Camp three
A resource boundless
That we could see.
Well we know
It’s a product
That is becoming
Rarer by the day.
Forever evergreen
Wild yet managed
Can we tell
Stories of the woods?
Just Like Me
Book cases and that trilogy
I have not read, waiting
For the time to spread
Into days , months and years
Ahead , waiting for what
Every day possesses, a beautiful
Simple kind of happenstance,
That is what I live for
Every day is new, and
Every day is experiential,
So with that comes a
Realization that completes me.
The seasons pass and I anticipate.
I obsess about that transition.
Then I think what I have done
In this life, Have I aspired enough?
Have I loved enough, to be whole?
Here is what I know, I was created
I lived and engaged, I interacted
And became who I am.
I can reflect all I want.
Never change a thing.
So I guess this is me,
I am what I am, and
There will never be another,
Just like me.
Book cases and that trilogy
I have not read, waiting
For the time to spread
Into days , months and years
Ahead , waiting for what
Every day possesses, a beautiful
Simple kind of happenstance,
That is what I live for
Every day is new, and
Every day is experiential,
So with that comes a
Realization that completes me.
The seasons pass and I anticipate.
I obsess about that transition.
Then I think what I have done
In this life, Have I aspired enough?
Have I loved enough, to be whole?
Here is what I know, I was created
I lived and engaged, I interacted
And became who I am.
I can reflect all I want.
Never change a thing.
So I guess this is me,
I am what I am, and
There will never be another,
Just like me.
On the Fly
The ripples and resounding water
A harmony that knows no bounds
Relentless and symphonic.
Across rock and sediment bed
Sleeping yet somber..
I find a chorus that speaks to me.
That staccato rhythm that has meaning to me..
I fashion a creation of feather and fluff
A creation that I think is good enough...
A hook, some thread and faith
That whatever large or small
Will come to see the presence of it all..
There it is this drift
Apart from the distraction around me...
The ripple of wind, the glint of light
On the water. the presence of life
Like no other. The stream makes all this possible
With a confluence of the perpetual...
Waters flow ever to the sea,
We are captured in that moment
Mesmerized and able to see..
The natural wonder of nature
And it's brilliant perpetual..
I revel in this presence
And seek it's grace...
Knowing all of it is God's face...
I am forever thankful and
Knowing that none of this is possible
Without knowing it is a gift
We need to see
The love of earth
The ripples and resounding water
A harmony that knows no bounds
Relentless and symphonic.
Across rock and sediment bed
Sleeping yet somber..
I find a chorus that speaks to me.
That staccato rhythm that has meaning to me..
I fashion a creation of feather and fluff
A creation that I think is good enough...
A hook, some thread and faith
That whatever large or small
Will come to see the presence of it all..
There it is this drift
Apart from the distraction around me...
The ripple of wind, the glint of light
On the water. the presence of life
Like no other. The stream makes all this possible
With a confluence of the perpetual...
Waters flow ever to the sea,
We are captured in that moment
Mesmerized and able to see..
The natural wonder of nature
And it's brilliant perpetual..
I revel in this presence
And seek it's grace...
Knowing all of it is God's face...
I am forever thankful and
Knowing that none of this is possible
Without knowing it is a gift
We need to see
The love of earth
Promises Broken
It has been too many years
Since I fished it…
This little black jewel
Favorite little river
Near the coast
At the cusp of salt
That I have loved
For decades now...
Inconsequential it seems?
As it has been
To my surprise eviscerated
With clear cutting
Silt run off
Filling holding water
Convinced that I need
To be more aware
Get more active
Be an advocate
for things I love
I feel ashamed
That I didn't know...
Did anyone speak up?
In the din of quiet…
It created jobs in the woods…
The new green is
The color of mud and sand
Toppled trees and under story
Of devils club, scrub alder
And Himalayan blackberries...
And a sanctity
Of promises broken.
It has been too many years
Since I fished it…
This little black jewel
Favorite little river
Near the coast
At the cusp of salt
That I have loved
For decades now...
Inconsequential it seems?
As it has been
To my surprise eviscerated
With clear cutting
Silt run off
Filling holding water
Convinced that I need
To be more aware
Get more active
Be an advocate
for things I love
I feel ashamed
That I didn't know...
Did anyone speak up?
In the din of quiet…
It created jobs in the woods…
The new green is
The color of mud and sand
Toppled trees and under story
Of devils club, scrub alder
And Himalayan blackberries...
And a sanctity
Of promises broken.
Spoken
January hope
March gain
Seasoned trust
Clouds refrain
Rains portent
Spoken taste
Spoken silent
Rivers face
Curtains rise
And fall again
before the sun
Finding us
A broken whole
Of seasonal trust
And we know
that months rust
We listen to
The seasons speak
Transitions proud
You can hear
The heat
See the clouds
Smell the summer
Hear the sun
Shining loud
The sun speaks
To earths clouds
January hope
March gain
Seasoned trust
Clouds refrain
Rains portent
Spoken taste
Spoken silent
Rivers face
Curtains rise
And fall again
before the sun
Finding us
A broken whole
Of seasonal trust
And we know
that months rust
We listen to
The seasons speak
Transitions proud
You can hear
The heat
See the clouds
Smell the summer
Hear the sun
Shining loud
The sun speaks
To earths clouds
Seasons
We celebrate
Demarcate time
Divided by light
And warmth
Seasons pass
As pages turn
With words of
The tangible
The chill
The light
Both grayed
And exultant
We celebrate
Those cusps
Of transition
With hope
And anticipation
Because we know
With each season
We see evidence
Of a new world
Evolving around us
A magical thing
Out of our control
Giving us pause
We can't control
Everything
Because nature is
Natural and wild
Perhaps preordained
Because we can't
Control everything.
We celebrate
Demarcate time
Divided by light
And warmth
Seasons pass
As pages turn
With words of
The tangible
The chill
The light
Both grayed
And exultant
We celebrate
Those cusps
Of transition
With hope
And anticipation
Because we know
With each season
We see evidence
Of a new world
Evolving around us
A magical thing
Out of our control
Giving us pause
We can't control
Everything
Because nature is
Natural and wild
Perhaps preordained
Because we can't
Control everything.
Fall is coming
Late Crocus blooming
The air cooler
The color crisper
The ebb and flow
Life moves on
Tides of persistence
A breeze of acceptance
Fall is coming
Light quelled
By dimming
Daylight dies
But comfort
Ever present
Seems to say
Envelop me
We live life
On the wire
And should yield
To the inspired
Because when
Fall comes
Gathering hope
We should relish
All that helps
Us cope
Friends, love
And the beauty
The memories
Of what we know.
Fall is coming
By dimming daylight
The ebb and flow
Life moves on
Tides of persistence
A breeze of acceptance…
A sort of tranquility
Late Crocus blooming
The air cooler
The color crisper
The ebb and flow
Life moves on
Tides of persistence
A breeze of acceptance
Fall is coming
Light quelled
By dimming
Daylight dies
But comfort
Ever present
Seems to say
Envelop me
We live life
On the wire
And should yield
To the inspired
Because when
Fall comes
Gathering hope
We should relish
All that helps
Us cope
Friends, love
And the beauty
The memories
Of what we know.
Fall is coming
By dimming daylight
The ebb and flow
Life moves on
Tides of persistence
A breeze of acceptance…
A sort of tranquility
