O tell us poet, what you do
I praise.
But the dark, the deadly, the desperate ways —
How do you endure them, how bear them?
I praise.
But the nameless, anonymous, which no word portrays — What do you call that, poet, nevertheless?
I praise
From whence is your right, your assumed role assays
To be sincere in each mask?
I praise
And you know the stillness and the passionate blaze
As a star and a storm?
Because I praise
fine art prints
Welcome
I started this blog after moving to northern New Mexico from coastal North Carolina. Feeling the loss of my creative community, I started posting works in progress as a way to push myself forward and connect with other writers and painters.
For the first eight months or so I offered original narrative images as weekly image prompt for writers. The Storybook Collaborative pages document the collaborations.
Sadly - for I have enjoyed the adventure, and meeting so many interesting, creative souls - keeping the blog has has taken a back seat to sleep, family, work obligations and the birth of our Mountain daughters. I'd like to get back to it and still hope to one day. Until such time I am delighted by your visit and hope you will leave a comment and come back for more.
mine enemy grows older 
Wow, what a powerful statement.
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I love rilke, amazing writer, one of the greatest.
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In my ignorance, midst the clutter of my days, I have not yet encountered Rilke. Perhaps it is time to ferret him out, for he is a poet or fare ilk. Thanks for the lines, and the tip of the hat, and the sharing, New Father and old soul.
Glenn
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high on a hill… uplifting in the midst of it all… i praise… it is important to remember… thank you… gee, haven’t thought of rilke in a long time…
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No one tells it quite like Rilke…
Best to you and the fam.
In praise,
N
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thanks for the comments. I am in complete agreement about Rilke. I ran across this fragment from his writing on Rodin when I was just out of high school and it has stuck with me, meaning more as the years go by.
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