Doll by Emma Whitlock
Over in the garden, Margaret shared some amazing talent with us. Dolls made by her daughter and her fellow classmates~
I chose Emma Whitlock's doll because it reminded me of my dance with self doubt. The more I share myself as an artist, the more I dance with the ups n' downs of my authentic voice, my confidence and my muse. The dream catcher reminded me of the nightmare I feel during the day, as the dark shadows of doubt linger, on my artistic journey.
Dark thoughts feed
like wretched bacteria
lingering in
night's shadows
feeding on
one's soul
sucking and tearing
at
what is real
an invisible hand
is
reaching beyond
hope's gray bed
bile billows out
of your pores
and oozes
a rotting smell of
despair remains
as
the invisible manifestation
speaks in a
serpent's voice
don't
listen
cruelty
will eat
your creative self
and toil, like decay
putrid n' foul
its vile
voice churns leaving
a
shredded skin of confidence
the repelling thoughts
seep like a sieve into
your gray matter
don't fall into
the acidic brine
wake
to the force of potential
listen
to
soul's whispers
like soft dandelion's wishes
like soft dandelion's wishes
close
the door
on
resistance
and dance
with the dust motes
of your day...
and wallow in the tumble
weeds
allow
and dance
with the dust motes
of your day...
and wallow in the tumble
weeds
allow
© Ellen Wilson
Doll by Chelsea Bednar
Her soul gives birth to day,
as her translucent
copper hair cascades
like reflected ribbons
in a tidal pool of
memories
Turquoise dreams of the sea
wave to her
washing her whole
as the ebb n' flow of
her heart
lives along
the piney pitch forest
Her heart
steadfast and true
evergreen
to
nature's gifts
Edges of childhood reside
as she bends, walks, and jumps
along the rocky shore
treasures
among the stars
winking in their indigo blanket to
their cousins outlining their
sandy, salty bed
Fingers extend to
reach n' touch
the blue thoughts
that surface
they surround her
and comfort
her
the bridge of her youth
fading like
the last star
before the
golden hour
she will
always
remember
© Ellen Wilson
What a brilliant piece to bring out the darkness within ... amazing !!!
ReplyDeleteThank you Green Speck! :D
ReplyDeleteI think you have handled the transition from doubt to self-affirmation very well in these lines. Your imagery was visceral, and entirely suited to the doll you chose.
ReplyDeleteHi Kerry, thank you! I at the last minute added a second poem. This one reflects my childhood view of growing up in Maine. My best friend had red hair and I married a red head...they follow me or I follow them, lol.
ReplyDeleteI'm so glad that in the first poem the soul's whispers took over! Best not to listen to those voices of self doubt! Great poems!
ReplyDeleteWhoa! "an invisible hand is reaching beyond hope's gray bed". Fantastic writing - this poem makes the same journey our hearts must make, overcoming the self-doubt, and learning to trust our creative voice.
ReplyDelete"speaks in a serpent's voice. Don't listen!" Yes - dont listen!!!!!!
Your voice is growing stronger all the time, Ellie. This is a fantastic poem. I also enjoyed the second one, "the ebb 'n flow of her heart lives along the edge of the piney pitch forest". Wow. Love the "edges of childhood" in the joyful exploration of the shore.........great writing!
Two beautiful poems, Ella. Rise above your self doubt. Allow your muse to play. It shines brightly through these poems.
ReplyDeleteYou have a dazzling world to inspire you :-)
ReplyDeleteHi Ella, thank you for getting me here. I wonder why most of do remember a lot of our 'fading youth' times? I think they are run of the mill for the most part yet we do remember those, good, bad, or just fun, or even bored for that matter.
ReplyDeleteMy favorite line was of the simile, "like soft dandelion's wishes." Thank you also for the introduction to the blue hour of photography. I will try more of that now that I know what it is called that I do.
Thank you also for peeking in on my 'nest' poem. I haven't been married to the same lady all my life, but this one marriage (crossed fingers, nothing is sure in love and living--burnt once) has lasted now 39 years.
..
"Your Muse to play in the blue hour those echoes cast in the net of your everyday!" Well, just beautiful & wise.
ReplyDeleteThe second was a delight as it is my daughters' doll... I loved the journey (and your explanation of your childhood in Maine...)
I really enjoyed both poems..."soft dandelion's wishes" such a gentle thought. The dolls are amazing!
ReplyDeleteWonderful poems! Both very vivid!
ReplyDeleteEllen...my heart unites with you in the first and I commend you for your honesty for it is not always a pretty place...that self-doubt. I love the heck out of you Ella!!
ReplyDeleteYour second poem is an aquatic dream and I love where we end up with the last fading star from that winking indigo blanket before the golden hour...so beautiful!!!
♥ to you tt/ss @>------>--- and a wish!
Sorry - those scroll-down-umpteen-short-lines layouts give me word blindness! Too bad, because the words would probably be worth reading...if they were closer together!
ReplyDeleteVery evocative imagery. I especially like the idea of memories growing out of the brain in the form of hair.
ReplyDeleteThank you everyone! :D
ReplyDeleteSorry Jinksy~
i really understand the emotions in your first poem, Ella! so hard not to listen to the nagging voice in the back of our mind. perfect accompaniment to the doll.
ReplyDeletei especially love the ending of your second poem. another amazing doll!
sorry it took me so long to visit!
*Hugs*
♥