Wheeeee… fzzzzz

Bang! Bang! Bang!

I hold you tenderly

behind solid door

blocking out the darkness

which frightens you

in lightning bursts of starry fire


Gently I cup your small face

against my warm chest

and hum quietly

until your muscles relax


We hide in the warm darkness

of a secret room,

peering into the night





BRoken PoeTry


windows smashed upon the floor

jostling, dancing

trodden into

Swept up

off my feet

glassy splinters




Poetry can be a motley collection of words and phrases

Swept up into an image with nerve endings – and yet is it sense-less?

What about smell? Sound? Taste?


Broken – a symphony/cacophony of icy screams, cut short

windows smashed upon the floor – dark mahogany, stained with salty sweat

jostling, dancing – pounding bass vibrates my bones

trodden into – whiff of sour alcoholic breath

Swept up – the music recedes and light fills my room

off my feet – your perfume; a knockout

glassy splinters – entering, piercing, lost within

needle-sharp – attention | focus | concentrate |split

pain – ambient temperature, punctuated with white-hot light


Link to a soothing poem (yet to come… do you have one?)

Here is one I found; or did it find me?

What is Poetry?

It’s when an arm and a leg come off,
and squirt all over the page.

It’s when your heart could not be contained
within your chest, so it leapt out on to the paper,
and danced a jig.

It’s when the sorrow overtook you
and turned the tears into a watercolour
of words, inked into permanence.

It’s when an elephant stomped its tracks
through your brain, and the noise
echoed through your fingertips
in mini-stomps over a keyboard.

It’s the after-image
of a thought that got away
from a tight leash

It’s the wild frothy waves
ever reaching for the shore
of understanding
Sometimes close,
Sometimes far away.

It’s the shake-everything-up
storm outside, that barrages
the emotions and hurls tears
pummelling at the windows
as we cower inside
waiting for the rage
to subside.

It’s the old man whispering
words of wisdom with
last breath.
Dying softly
at the end of each phrase.

It’s the young girl dreaming
(sorrows tucked into a sleeve)
sunshine trickling from tears

It’s the boy dancing in the trees
with stars overhead
singing for the pure joy in his heart.
And the same man, bowed in pain
as he glances up at a streetlight
as he limps through thick fog.

Poetry is a voice
in the dark.
==== ♥====

This was fun. What is poetry to you?

PDF downloads and e-book ideas, mixed with a bit of spontaneous creativity… and add a dash of marketing – hopefully means some sales!

I spent some time today putting together a PDF colouring book, after googling that Amazon had something called eDocs that were mainly PDFs and printable. eDocs were also supposed to be smaller than eBooks… and sounded like just what I needed for digital sales of my colouring book art.

Once I finished the PDF, try as I might, I could not find how to upload a PDF to Amazon as an eDoc. So I am waiting for a reply to an email for help. Somehow I think that eDocs no longer exist. So I am not holding my breath.

My next idea, is to make an e-book, and build in a way to allow my e-book buyers to print out the pictures! My cunning plan is to add links within the e-book, which take the reader through to a PDF download page, which they can print from within Adobe Reader, or similar. So the price of the e-book covers the printable artwork.

There will need to be probably some sort of password protection on the download page. And it can be a page on my blog, that cannot be accessed except by people who bought the e-book. Readers would find their password inside the e-book. Thomas Edison comes to mind as I discard yet another idea on the way to whatever comes of my colouring book adventure. Goodbye eDoc idea!

This e-book… I have thoughts of it being the most fantastic e-book ever. Then I would have to figure out how to make it so. The key, I think, is the links. To be able to click a link from my e-book reader and be taken somewhere special, that relates to the page I’m reading. This does not always have to be a colouring book page. It could be a link to a video, or an audio recording of a poem which the reader is looking at in the e-book, which includes some other ramblings by the poet beyond what can be read on the page.

It could link to a blog, anybody’s blog, on a related topic. One link per page. One “call to action,” so as not to confuse the reader with too many things to do. Don’t want to overload with too many choices.

Singing and music could sprout up from a link. The e-book becomes a bit like a slice of a blog, which can be sold on Amazon.

The e-book itself is the “shop front.” And the blog becomes the warehouse storage behind the scenes. With a window display that can be freely perused by blog followers. The window display is made up of the free pages and posts on the blog. There will have to be private pages or posts that can only be accessed via the “shop front” e-book. They must not be available via Google searches. The hidden pages or posts would probably need a visible page which explains that access is via buying the e-book, with a direct link to Amazon where it can be bought with One-Click.

I am liking this idea more and more. Probably someone has done it already, and I would like to have a search and see what their e-book and blog looks like. More research to do…

Meantime… it is time to prepare forms and paperwork for the US taxman. If I work things right then hopefully I won’t lose another 30% from the grand total of less than $15 made in online sales so far. So, yeah, I haven’t hit the big-time yet. The e-book idea is compelling. And I hadn’t thought of what to put into an e-book before. This one I hope will be a best-seller.

  1. Art
  2. Poetry
  3. Links

That is the basic interior of the e-book. Then come the links:

  1. Colouring book pages of the printable variety
  2. Fine art / digital art for download, or physical delivery
  3. Audio poetry reading
  4. Video introduction
  5. Video for kids
  6. Links to authors, poets, and creative communities
  7. Links to bloggers
  8. Links to a series of stories, or comics, that come out in episodes. Like an index page. Or table of contents. Hmm I don’t know if authors/comic artists would receive royalties from the e-book, or if they would pay for a link to be added! Hee hee. Maybe treat it the same as links between blogs. Good traffic boosters.

Now, the e-book would “expire” in a funny way. The next e-book would have a new password to access the next lot of links.

Possibly the old passwords could be removed and the old links only accessible by buying the next e-book. The price and timing would be important. It would be a bit like a subscription, which could be paid monthly, or yearly, or six-monthly. Depending on how often a new e-book is created.

I will need to think about it all some more. Thought others might benefit from thinking along the same lines. And there is surely room for collaboration by artists, writers and all other creative types… A bit of spontaneous creativity gone wild would be a lot of fun.

Opinions are beasts of burden…

are beasts

the weight
of emotions
mixed media messages
forced through tv sets
computer screens
radio ears
ipod streams

life or death on a plate
of words, gentle as honey
sharp as a dagger

The tale bent
where it was run over.

In response to Project O at where a huge selection of posts are building up, each one devoted to one blogger’s opinion, on opinions. The more I read, the more I realize how an opinion is acceptable to those who are of the same opinion. And that there are broad groups that align to certain opinions, or ways of thinking, or a way of life.

Those outside those groups are deemed to have smelly opinions by those inside the groups.

And although the outsider may express their story, it can reach the ears of the insider in a distorted fashion. As crooked as a cat’s tail. (Did you spot that the poem is concrete? Do you see the cat’s bent tail?) The poem-cat offers a strange perspective, just as some people’s opinions are judged as strange due to the angle they are viewed from. Notably, the cat is upright, and its ‘tale’ holds weight.

The cat is seen as dead, a state in which no opinion is called for, from a cat. So, an undesirable opinion is like a dead cat dressed up in funeral clothes handing out appetizers to the begrudging gravediggers who hope to have it buried by lunchtime.

An opening exists for the Opinion to Shine. There are a pair of listening ears, an eager mind. Powers of thought and reason disciplined by love, and nourished with respect.

The large group turns away, black-suited backs braced against the smell.

While the sweet scent of light, truth, and understanding, intoxicates the open mind. The flame is passed on. The burden of truth.


In between
and Instinct,
when together they fall asleep,
A peaceful baby gently wakes
I name her simply,