Private Moments #54 : No Restrictions

private moments in paintings & poetry
Private Moments #54: No Restrictions
Poem by Jennifer Kiley
Painting by Jk McCormack
Post Created 10th March 2014
Posted On Monday 24th March 2014
PRIVATE MOMENTS: PAINTINGS & POETRY

Private Writings: Chapter #54 — I Feel Fine

The Brain Processing Madness (c) JkM 2008

The Brain Processing Madness (c) JkM 2008

“For that fine madness still he did retain,
Which rightly should possess a poet’s brain.”
~Michael Drayton~
(1563-1631)

hands reaching out into rain

No Restrictions
Poem by Madison Taylor
16th September 2008

Play word games backwards
No restrictions has madness
Keen minds dividing

© Madison Taylor 2008

candle flame flickering gif

Maze

garden waterfall private gazebo overgrown 4pmip&p “Doorway to a Place of Enchantment”

*     *      *      *      *      *      *

“Creating is having the courage
to allow the seer into the private
moments of our imaginative lives.”
— JkM the secret keeper
aka Jennifer Kiley McCormack

*      *      *      *      *      *      *

Private Moments #50: Fated Attraction

private moments in paintings & poetry
Fated Attraction
Private Moments #50
Poem by Jennifer Kiley
Painting by Jk McCormack
Post Created 10th February 2014
Posted On Monday 24th February 2014
PRIVATE MOMENTS: PAINTINGS & POETRY

Private Writings: Chapter #50 — Fated Attraction

Innocence Abandoned - Artist MTaylor (c) jKm 2008

Innocence Abandoned – Artist MTaylor (c) jKm 2008

“For that fine madness still he did retain,
Which rightly should possess a poet’s brain.”
~Michael Drayton~
(1563-1631)

hands reaching out into rain

Fated Attraction
By Madison Taylor
19th August 2008

Fated attraction
Confusing reaction
To a retraction
Of loving contraction

Voices I hear now
Speak your name clear now
The word is you love me
It’s something you can’t see

One day when you wake up
You’ll see what was once ours
Possibilities of pure love
Beyond time this love endures

Have you really left me?
Leaving unfinished memories
The pain I’ve been feeling undeniably true
I live now in my nightmare without you

© MTaylor 2008

candle flame flickering gif

garden waterfall private gazebo overgrown 4pmip&p

“Doorway to a Place of Enchantment”

* * * * * * *

“Creating is having the courage
to allow the seer into the private
moments of our imaginative lives.”
— JkM the secret keeper
aka Jennifer Kiley McCormack

* * * * * * *

Poetry as Therapy

tell me a story
Poetry as Therapy
TED Talk Speaker Rachel McKibbens
Notations by Jennifer Kiley
Created Post 2nd August 2013
Posted on Thursday 12th December 2013
TELL ME A STORY

A completely intense experience listening to the rawness and honesty of Rachel McKibbons speak from her own depth of emotion. Her TEDTalk is emotionally moving. In the second video, Rachel reads her poem “Last Love,” once again extremely intense, disturbing and spellbinding in her tremulous voice. She is direct with the honesty of her words and her vulnerability. The subject matter is on a level that has a potential to be triggering for some people. Rachel holds no emotion back nor subject matter.

Poetry as Therapy – Rachel McKibbens – TEDTalks

Rachel combines her personal story with the spoken word of her poetry. She explains how the practice of sharing written words aloud in an environment of safety, encouragement and support is an invaluable, cathartic experience of emotional and intellectual re-framing.

I do this in my own writing. With poetry, there are so many styles to choose from in which to express what one is feeling. Many times I have worked through depressions that contained feelings so dark, I did feel suicidal. For some reason, recently, I am not going to question it, but I have not been feeling suicidal or depressed.

My health has been in question, which was making me feel very ill and exhausted. I am now on the mend from my latest surgery. It doesn’t hold back the writing. Writing is my savior and what keeps me alive. Art and creating or finding something one cares for passionately, is important to keep one connected to the vitality of life.

Listen further to Rachel. Also, think about something you would like to do to keep the inside of your life alive and wanting to live and thrive.

Rachel McKibbens performs “Last Love”

Rachel McKibbens is the 2009 Women of the World poetry slam champion, is an eight-time National Poetry Slam team member, a three-time NPS finalist, and a 2007 New York Foundation for the Arts poetry fellow and Pushcart nominee. For four years, she co-curated the award-winning louder ARTS Project reading series in New York City, coaching their poetry slam team to three consecutive National Poetry Slam final stages.

Poetry as Therapy. I highly recommend for anyone with an interest, as I recommend it for my own self to feel able to express poetry as a central part of my own life.

Vincent [Starry, Starry Night]

poetry out loud - day title saturday

Vincent [Starry, Starry Night]
Post Created by Jk the secret keeper
Post Created Friday 29th November 2013
Posted On Saturday 7th December 2013
POETRY OUT LOUD

Vincent [Starry, Starry Night] — Don McLean

Vincent
[Starry, Starry Night]
By Don McLean

Starry, starry night
Paint your palette blue and gray
Look out on a summer’s day
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul
Shadows on the hills
Sketch the trees and the daffodils
Catch the breeze and the winter chills
In colors on the snowy linen land

Now I understand what you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
How you tried to set them free
They would not listen, they did not know how
Perhaps they’ll listen now

Starry, starry night
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze
Swirling clouds in violet haze
Reflect in Vincent’s eyes that shine a blue
Colors changing hue
Morning fields of amber grain
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artist’s loving hand

Now I understand what you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen, they did not know how
Perhaps they’ll listen now

For they could not love you
But still your love was true
And when no hope was left in sight
On that starry, starry night
You took your life as lovers often do
But I could have told you, Vincent
This world was never meant
For one as beautiful as you

Starry, starry night
Portraits hung in empty halls
Frameless heads on nameless walls
With eyes that watch the world and can’t forget
Like the strangers that you’ve met
The ragged men in ragged clothes
A silver thorn, a bloody rose
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow

Now I think I know what you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen, they’re not listening still
Perhaps they never will

van gogh starry night variation
Starry Starry Night – Vincent Van Gogh

Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer’s Day

poetry out loud - day title saturday
Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer’s Day
Shakespeare – Sonnet XVIII
Video Discovered by j. kiley
Post Created on Saturday 16th November 2013
Posted On Saturday 23rd November
Happy Birthday Gran Emily 133 yrs b. 23rd November 1880
POETRY OUT LOUD

Sonnet XVIII – Shakespeare – Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer’s Day

SONNET XVIII

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm’d;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature’s changing course untrimm’d;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander’st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this and this gives life to thee.

Blooming Blue Flowers for Emily with Love

Blooming Blue Flowers for Emily with Love Jk

Poetry Our Loud: When We Two Parted

poetry out loud - day title saturday

When We Two Parted
Written by Lord Byron
Post Created by Jk the secret keeper
Post Created on Saturday 9th November 2013
Posted On Saturday 16th November 2013
POETRY OUT LOUD

When We Two Parted — Lord Byron

When We Two Parted

When we two parted
In silence and tears,
Half broken-hearted
To sever for years,
Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
Colder thy kiss;
Truly that hour foretold
Sorrow to this.

The dew of the morning
Sunk chill on my brow–
It felt like the warning
Of what I feel now.
Thy vows are all broken,
And light is thy fame;
I hear thy name spoken,
And share in its shame.

They name thee before me,
A knell to mine ear;
A shrudder comes o’er me–
Why wert thou so dear?
They know not I knew thee,
Who knew thee so well–
Long, long I shall rue thee,
Too deeply to tell.

In secret we met–
In silence I grieve,
That thy heart could forget,
Thy spirit deceive
If I should meet thee
After long years,
How should I greet thee?–
With silence and tears.

Lord Byron

Poetry Out Loud: Funeral Blues — Four Weddings & a Funeral

poetry out loud - day title saturday
Funeral Blues
W.H. Auden
from: Four Weddings and a Funeral
Post Created by Jk the secret keeper
Post Created on Saturday 2nd November 2013
Posted On Saturday 9th November 2013
Poetry Out Loud

Funeral Blues – W.H. Auden – Four Weddings & a Funeral

Funeral Blues

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message ‘He is Dead’.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

© W H Auden. All rights reserved
No Copyright Infringement Intended

Anais Nin: Thinks of June — Part Two

a writer's word - day title sunday

Anais Nin: Thinks of June — Part Two
The Diary of Anais Nin — Volume One
Transposed by Jennifer Kiley
Post Created by Jk the secret keeper
Illustrated j. kiley
Post Created on Wednesday 30th October 2013
Posted on Sunday 3rd November 2013
A Writer’s Word

Monet_Claude-Woman_in_the_Garden._Sainte-Adresse darkness modeMonet, Claude — Woman in the Garden

Anaïs Nin
Thinks of June
Part Two

“Her face startlingly white
as she retreated
into the darkness
of the garden,

she posed for me
as she left.

I wanted to run out
and kiss her fantastic beauty
and say:

June,
you killed
my sincerity too.

I will never
know again
who I am,
what I am,
what I love,
what I want.

Your beauty has drowned me,
the core of me.

You carry away with you
a part of me
reflected in you.

When your beauty struck me,
it dissolved me.
Deep down.

I am not different from you.
I dreamed you,
I wished for your existence.

You are the woman
I want to be.

I see in you
that part of me
which is you.

I feel compassion
for your child
is pride,
for your trembling
unsureness,

your dramatization
of events,

your enhancing
of the loves
given to you.

I surrender my sincerity
because
if I love you

it means
we share
the same
fantasies,
the same
madnesses.”

ophelia-1889 john william waterhouseOphelia [1889] John William Waterhouse

WARNING: A BIPOLAR RIDE ALL THE WAY…ENJOY!!! [may not be for everybody but those who get it will laugh…TRUST ME!!!

The Wednesday Poetry Corner with Dr. Mary Annie AV

the secret keeper:

“Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there – I do not sleep. I am the thousand winds that blow…” Mary Frye [1932] One of my favorite poems. Dr. Mary Annie A.V. did a lovely & meaningful presentation on death & life. Meeting the end of one and entering the beginning another. Which is which? It is the ultimate Question. Tagore states in this post “…When one dies one lives.” I wonder myself if this is true. We all know death is in front of our time here. No one is ever really told when, even if one is gravely ill, the time is not given to us in an exact moment. Some say they feel it approaching. It is a grand philosophical question, poets, artists, writers, songs, express death, love, life, probably the most popular content of most art, these three subjects, but death is the one that haunts us the most. Reading this post has opened my mind to thinking about it in a poetic & philosophical way. It is something feared & expected & needs someday to be faced, in some manner or maybe not for some people. Is it better to be surprised or to be the poet and examine it through divine words of comfort & see it as an uplifting end to pain & a beginning of life as we all are meant to experience it fully. Great post. Love that you brought Mary Annie A.V. to us Niamh Clune. She has a very unique way of expressing such a delicate subject to many. Her choices in poetry and poets are so familiar to me. I feel all will enjoy & find a comfort in reading all that she has offered to us. by Jk the secret keeper Jennifer Kiley ps. Two poets I didn’t mention that Mary Annie A.V. writes about are Emily Dickinson and Sylvia Plath, who, also, write about death. “Dying / Is an art, / like everything else. / I do it exceptionally well. / I do it so it feels like hell. / I do it so it feels real. / I guess you could say I’ve a call./

Originally posted on Plum Tree Books Blog:

It is with great pleasure that I introduce a wonderful new Indian voice to our Wednesday Corner. Dr. Mary Annie A.V. writes with depth and passion about the subject of Death ~ a subject that has long-fascinated poets and philosophers throughout history. Thank you Mary for being our guest on the plum tree today and for sharing your profound thoughts on a subject that is often not spoken of.

Speculating…

By Mary Annie A.V.

My earliest memories are those of reciting Mother Goose’s Nursery rhymes, which perhaps influenced me to write my first prize winning poem ‘My brother’, at the age of five. However, I guess it is in the Psalms of the Bible that I by-hearted, that I found my sense of language, rhythm and the sheer magic of words. I have always been fascinated by life, death and eternity. The mystery of life and death and eternity makes…

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i carry your heart with me

poetry out loud - day title saturday

i carry your heart with me
by e.e. cummings
Post Created by Jk the secret keeper
Post Created On Sunday 6th October 2013
Posted On Saturday 12th October 2013
Poetry Out Loud

Edward Estlin Cummings (1894 — 1962) was an American poet, painter, essayist, author, and playwright. He was born in Cambridge, Massachusetts, USA. Cummings’ poetry often deals with themes of love and nature, as well as the relationship of the individual to the masses and to the world. Modernism prevailed major part of his work.

I Carry Your Heart With Me — e.e. cummings

[i carry your heart with me(i carry it in]
by e. e. cummings

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
                                                       i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)