Poet. Writer. Photographer.
When the world is silhouette
in the darkness of new day,
and The Maker begins to add
the first colors of paint,
beginning with the sky
and blending into the sea,
as each ripple begins rippling
and the seabirds spread their wings,
my heart awaits the bristles
upon the lonely shore,
always hoping He’ll add wings
so my love can finally soar.
Poem and image ©LauraDenise
Artificial light
will suffice
when I employ
on quiet walks
my creative devices
to make art
during heart-
survival crises
until it all naturally passes,
as all weather is designed to do;
I need to do better with storm preparations,
though He always sees ahead and sees me
through.
Tonight, to distract
with creative play,
I replace and extend
a stem with manmade
until the flower becomes a tower,
and then I ignite the beacon,
and let the moon console
a lonely orb romantic-dreaming.
I do these magnificent things
not only to take focus away from the pain
but because it gives me the control and power
as an abuse-survivor to manipulate
in a positive way.
I do it for you, but really and also
for me, selfishly,
but if you and I both need it,
how comforting it then becomes for us
to become “we.”
You’ve been here too,
I know, as I have been there,
not these same tracks
but in the aches that echo,
shared.
Beneath the bridge,
before historic town,
along the river bank,
my heart found
the way
the sunset light
illuminated the art:
towering concrete flower,
which seemed to inspire
both of our dreams,
and into life,
I witnessed our
twin rebirthing.
Poem and images by LauraDenise
Upon unnamed seas,
exploring unfound lands
is where you could find me
if ever there were a map,
for even I know not the way
or where I ever am
when I slip through the portals
of my art and lens…
Poem and images ©LauraDenise
I snapped a picture of the clouds while walking into work one day:
inverted and painted, I later brought to life the fleeting escape.
Concrete cannot barricade
my imagination from its escape;
especially on rainy days,
I paint with puddles
like Van Gogh and Monet –
bright colors, ocean waves,
always naturescapes,
to keep from drowning
in the daily mundane.
Concrete cannot barricade
dreams that refuse to fade to gray.
Sunrise kisses brushed upon eyelids,
Quenching drops nourishing, renewing, the spirit,
Velvet petals caressing the flesh, erasing false perfections,
inner seeds in ecstasy sacrificially spilling,
Breezes always joyfully willing
to carefully carry the heart’s deepest wishes,
Lonely floating feathered silhouettes receiving comforting sunset ripples,
Faithful mutually blooming companion, a bud always returning,
Upon a pure canvas, watercolors mixing,
slowly, beautifully messily dripping,
fluid, never fully setting,
in the swirling abstract showing
what each individual soul has mourned, is yearning…
This is poetry.
And art. And music.
And, I suppose,
love.
All words and images ©LauraDenise
Laura Denise 