|Severe allergies prevent me from outside activities I once loved doing, including gardening. But your art keeps me company and brings me much joy.|
October 8......cursed WednesdayOctober 8... by RainySkyz
Asleep ear to ear
hours ago comfortably near
now deaf as ice and stone
total eclipse of the moon
in her lowly room
a place from which
to gaze and praise
such special occasion
Wishing to share
and no one cared
Alone from humbled bed
crawled her body of lead,
severed soul, eyes flowing
to the window dirt etched
she pushed aside
old curtains barely khaki
and poked through ugly blinds
plastic, dusty, cracking
during the sad night
oh dearest God
the saddest night of her life
Coincidentally, she could only guess,
as always was wont to go
when usually bad,
heralded a rare memorial event
for others would be happy
meant only to haunt her to the end
of her miserable existence
upon one last cursed Wednesday?
Requires TwoRain on the roofRequires Two by RainySkyz
a song so sweet..
air so pure
I feel the trees
Were there a fire
in the hearth
of my heart
I could share
of my soul,
If I had a name..
I would call out..
But echoes only
Sadness DoesI was once asked.Sadness Does by RainySkyz
What is the worst thing sadness does to you?
It stops me dead in my tracks.
Fells me like a sapling, despite moments ago the oak I was.
Razes me so flat to the ground people could and do trod on me
and I don't care.
There is no one and no way to revive me.
What I took to be comfort and truth, became panic and lies.
Love ceases to exist.
I'm nothing, always was, always will be.
Dust to dust, ashes to ashes,
lying splashed and scattered
everywhere and nowhere,
but not the pain.
Never the pain -- the only thing that remains,
Which begot the sadness.
Which brought the death.
And just when I believe my heart is striking its last beat,
just one word screams in my mind.
And I am saved, yet another day...
even as pain and sadness linger...
until love comes again...
if love comes again...
if I too bravely wish for
of the deadly
Where Sorrow Is Just A ThingHello, it's meWhere Sorrow Is Just A Thing by RainySkyz
with heart like
why have I not
bled to death
Promised a new beginning
a happy ending
a sweet in between
promised a promise
not to break promises . . .
of a most grievous ache
where my children would be sleeping,
How dearly they
longed to be
part of you, part of me
Not to know
never to see
On the other side
wait . . .
Who can say
which of us
is the most
piteous . . .
Dear unborn children
had I known
when too I was a tiny thought
I would never have left home
where sorrow is just a thing
and pain but gentle breeze
that moves the clouds away
so forever the sun may shine
peace upon every face
blessed with love
full of grace . . . .
until the loneliness fadesI'll play musicuntil the loneliness fades by rei-kei
I don't understand
in hopes of getting lost
in the rhythm
and forgetting this nagging feeling
I'll fold my arms
and rub my hands
in an attempt to feign
the warmth of another
and burn the aching
I'll continue to glance
at the time displayed on my monitor
and hope that they
would return soon
The song changed and I'm cold again
the minutes are taking too long to pass by
I shouldn't feel so alone
in this brightly painted
dully lit room
I assure you,
I don't miss them
I'm just tired
of being visited by memories
I wish were never made
|I love all that I fave, but these are especially nice.|
|I'm most fond of cats (raised many, none now), but also had dogs, birds, and horses. I like observing frogs and lizards and most all animals, including certain insects. I enjoy seeing what all of you have photographed, drawn, or painted.|
|I'm self-training. I prefer pencils, pastels, chalk. I'm inept with traditional brushes but I do love watercolors. I'm experimenting with digital art. I'm lucky if I complete more than two works a year. I had an art drought of more than 15 years. It's very difficult for me. But I love it.|
|All of these are by wonderful dA artists. I enjoy looking at them very much.|
Poor Little June BugPoor little June bug.Poor Little June Bug by RainySkyz
I did not mean to be mean.
When a bug must die
I deliver a certain swift death.
I do not believe in suffering.
Not even of a poor little June bug.
So shiny, pretty, dark, and brown.
Hairy legs, kinked, walking slowly
along the rug's edge.
Until you saw gigantic me.
And froze with fear.
Poor little June bug,
I did not mean to be mean.
Had I known it was you,
I might have let you go.
But you were snooping my kitchen!
And course I thought you were sent
straight from the devil himself.
With a swift mad fist
I mashed part of your head
and captured you in a glass
and sat you on the counter
to observe in disgust.
And then with sadistic pleasure
"That'll teach you
for invading my turf!
Die you little bastard!
Scream your guts out
to your gazillion relatives!
'Run away, run away fast!'
because I'm now in furious pursuit!"
I watched you slowly wiggle a bloody leg,
then what was left of another,
as you tried to move your head
and the remai
The Screams Of Mourning Doves (re-submitted)Dear Reader,The Screams Of Mourning Doves (re-submitted) by RainySkyz
This story may not be finished, for reasons unknown or that you may
derive. It is a work in progress, to keep me company during this very
long lonely night of complex post-traumatic stress disorder depression.
It is what it is -- not really plotted, so unexpected, not even wanted, and
with much defensive activity, and battled at every opportunity. But
some stories cannot be denied no matter how hard we try. They write
themselves because they don't care who wins or loses. They only care to
be heard, even if by no one. They are the act itself. Anything else is left
to chance. That is how this story is, will be, or will not be.
It is a story about two strangers -- an older woman, and a man, who have
been wounded all their lives by almost everyone they deeply cared
about, including spouses, lovers, family, and to such a consistent
beating they gave up hoping they will ever be loved.
|My short stories. Some very old. Some whimsical. Many emo or passionate. Hopefully at least one will entertain you.|
|Beautiful still life by talented dA artists. My most favorite art form is still life, including that which I try to do myself.|
|2011-2012. My Six Word Stories. They are a short story format, written with no more than six words plus title. I'm still trying to get the hang of it. I'm happy my favorite "Writer's CPR" received a DLD.|
Bio: Female, age 66. California born and raised except for 5 years in Arkansas. Was married too young and too long. I have one son, no grand children. But I'm Aunty to many nieces/nephews, a great aunty to even more, and more recently a great great to two. That makes me smile.
And... I'm candid and comfortable speaking my mind. It's how I believe we all should be. --Claudia 9/2014
Favorite Colors? ©
Medium to Light Blues,
Purples in all Hues,
Soft Sunny Yellows,
and All In Betweens.
My quotes, philosophies, and poetry: ©
"One thing I've learned in this long life of half joy and half sorrow,
it's Love that decides when and how it loves -- not I."
"It's not how piercing the comebacks,
but how meaningful the argument." ツ
"If the light be truth, I always choose the light.
If the dark be illusion in which to hide,
I choose to illuminate.
If in between I fall and must again choose,
I hope always to use the dark as the direction from which I depart, and not arrive."
Just A MessageI say,©3-10-2011
Isaac Shepherd: Gentle (If people just would let me be... only because... I am...) www.youtube.com/watch?v=3kslrQ…
(Fab instrument and performance)
Homemade Jamz Blues Band - Gotta Bad Bad Feeling - Don Odells Legends
Homemade Jamz Blues Band - So Many Tears - Don Odells Legends www.youtube.com/watch?v=MwakzG…
Smithereens: Miles From Nowhere
Smithereens: Everything I Have Is Blue
Smithereens: Blood And Roses
Red: Breathe Into Me
Plumb: All My Tears
Plumb: Hang On
Karen Overton: Your Loving Arms (radio edit)
Andy Blueman: Time To Rest (Live guitar by Eller Van Buuren)