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Revealing beauty and wounds through creative transformation.Words as medicine and my story (by maria gornell)
http://poetessmariagornell.wordpress.com/
Words as medicine and my story (by maria gornell)
http://poetessmariagornell.wordpress.com/
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Revealing beauty and wounds through creative transformation. | poetessmariagornell.wordpress.com Reviews
https://poetessmariagornell.wordpress.com
Words as medicine and my story (by maria gornell)
poetessmariagornell.wordpress.com
To Begin again – NaPoWriMo day 12 | Revealing beauty and wounds through creative transformation.
https://poetessmariagornell.wordpress.com/2012/04/15/to-begin-again-napowrimo-day-12
Revealing beauty and wounds through creative transformation. Words as medicine and my story. To Begin again – NaPoWriMo day 12. And if you go back into the archive a few weeks maybe you will also be able to read a review of the book. By maria gornell on April 15, 2012. Leave a Reply Cancel reply. Enter your comment here. Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:. Address never made public). You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out. Notify me of new comments via email.
Resistance | Revealing beauty and wounds through creative transformation.
https://poetessmariagornell.wordpress.com/2015/01/12/resistance
Revealing beauty and wounds through creative transformation. Words as medicine and my story. The muse is sleepless tonight. Released into the bleak hiss of. A darker than black night. The wind howls in sympathy of this dark night. Everything demands my surrender. To this loss – an acceptance. Nothing can be forced. Nothing will ever be the same. The rain is fierce. Biblical battering down to cleanse. The jinns from my second sight. That have danced in delight. At my impossible choices.
The chase | Revealing beauty and wounds through creative transformation.
https://poetessmariagornell.wordpress.com/2015/01/12/the-chase
Revealing beauty and wounds through creative transformation. Words as medicine and my story. When the traces of his love. Have vanished; memories. Of our dreams left in Ourika. Mountains. Don’t regret. What passed you by. Like the butterfly on our window. With a message of transformation. Life is but this fleeting smile. I climbed high to be a gatekeeper. So why oh why did it stop. Beating to my rhythm. I danced a trance to. And every bad eye. Sent to test our resilience. And I woe betide. Enter your ema...
Delete NaPoWriMO day 11 | Revealing beauty and wounds through creative transformation.
https://poetessmariagornell.wordpress.com/2012/04/14/delete
Revealing beauty and wounds through creative transformation. Words as medicine and my story. Delete NaPoWriMO day 11. I once read you religiously – till my eyes fell blinded. By light; weight of words hung shutter in philosophical. Curve a life/death cycle, sometimes its clinical cold. Had me reaching for a bottle of plonk. Mouthing words resembled in ‘has it come to this’. But I never judged or blamed you; life has a habit of. Doing us like that, right? Because I thought we were friends, though it seems.
Listening to the wind with mortality on my mind. | Revealing beauty and wounds through creative transformation.
https://poetessmariagornell.wordpress.com/2013/02/24/listening-to-the-wind-with-mortality-on-my-mind
Revealing beauty and wounds through creative transformation. Words as medicine and my story. Listening to the wind with mortality on my mind. Death and a broken heart can change you. Faced with your own mortality. As if that wasn’t enough. Now the monsters join up. A last supper of iniquities. Forced to look inside yourself. For the reason you fail. All these relationships,. Actually hardly that many. Or why it takes you 4 years. To grieve; meanwhile they. Got married and had kids. A big fire blazing.
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COMMENTS – Gillian Prew
https://gprew.wordpress.com/reviews/comments
A WOUND’S SOUND. THROATS FULL OF GRAVES. Gillian Prew’s Three Colours Grief fashions a new syntax of empathy, a ‘beautiful black language /wild in the air’. Updating John Clare’s empathetic vision of the animal world for the age of factory-farming, these are poems of urgent moral intelligence and jagged elegance, lingering in the memory long after they ‘dissolve beautiful and haunted.’ - David Wheatley. 8211; Tim Buck. Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by...
A Wound’s Sound – Gillian Prew
https://gprew.wordpress.com/front/awscover
A WOUND’S SOUND. THROATS FULL OF GRAVES. Gillian Prew’s Three Colours Grief fashions a new syntax of empathy, a ‘beautiful black language /wild in the air’. Updating John Clare’s empathetic vision of the animal world for the age of factory-farming, these are poems of urgent moral intelligence and jagged elegance, lingering in the memory long after they ‘dissolve beautiful and haunted.’ - David Wheatley. A Wound’s Sound. Leave a Reply Cancel reply. Enter your comment here. Address never made public).
Zoomorphic – Gillian Prew
https://gprew.wordpress.com/2015/05/05/zoomorphic
A WOUND’S SOUND. THROATS FULL OF GRAVES. Gillian Prew’s Three Colours Grief fashions a new syntax of empathy, a ‘beautiful black language /wild in the air’. Updating John Clare’s empathetic vision of the animal world for the age of factory-farming, these are poems of urgent moral intelligence and jagged elegance, lingering in the memory long after they ‘dissolve beautiful and haunted.’ - David Wheatley. May 5, 2015. May 24, 2015. Share on Facebook (Opens in new window). 2 thoughts on “ Zoomorphic. You ar...
A Wound’s Sound – Gillian Prew
https://gprew.wordpress.com/a-wounds-sound
A WOUND’S SOUND. THROATS FULL OF GRAVES. Gillian Prew’s Three Colours Grief fashions a new syntax of empathy, a ‘beautiful black language /wild in the air’. Updating John Clare’s empathetic vision of the animal world for the age of factory-farming, these are poems of urgent moral intelligence and jagged elegance, lingering in the memory long after they ‘dissolve beautiful and haunted.’ - David Wheatley. A Wound’s Sound. A Wound’s Sound. Review by David McLean. This poem has blood in its ears/. From the b...
Scene from July – Gillian Prew
https://gprew.wordpress.com/2015/07/05/scene-from-july
A WOUND’S SOUND. THROATS FULL OF GRAVES. Gillian Prew’s Three Colours Grief fashions a new syntax of empathy, a ‘beautiful black language /wild in the air’. Updating John Clare’s empathetic vision of the animal world for the age of factory-farming, these are poems of urgent moral intelligence and jagged elegance, lingering in the memory long after they ‘dissolve beautiful and haunted.’ - David Wheatley. July 5, 2015. July 5, 2015. Pink wall of glum sun with its birdsong blush. Numb, like a cement bloom;.
RAVEN-SPRING | Flameinthesnow
https://flameinthesnow.wordpress.com/2014/04/13/raven-spring
A sound may be truer than reason. While black-spruce gravely holds council,. A grayish crescent haunts the blue,. I’m gathering the thread of courage,. Winding a fine, elusive skein. Wild-flowers pressed between pages,. Strange lyrics and music beckon. My life, a cautionary tale,. A heart held in a vice, a song. For my sisters and the voiceless,. The unheard, unloved, un-caressed,. Broken bodies marked by moon-runes,. Chinook wraps their longings in silk. April 13, 2014. Leave a Reply Cancel reply. Uncer...
Flameinthesnow | Hiraeth | Page 2
https://flameinthesnow.wordpress.com/page/2
A sound may be truer than reason. Borsch would then be bubbling,. Four pairs of slippers, shuffling,. Scuffing the tiles on the way to the kitchen. Straight by way of bus, from the dusty. Bowels of the Tretyakov,. Mama would don an orange house coat,. Tallying her beloved paintings. Pungent, permanent haloes,. Axle grease and diesel,. Clung to Papa’s hair. Smoke curled past his ears. Yesenin’s poems held the place. Where Pasha’s nose might exist. Olya, with that fierce pose,. Fresh from Afghan’,. To reco...
Margarita’s Mouse | Flameinthesnow
https://flameinthesnow.wordpress.com/2014/04/08/margaritas-mouse
A sound may be truer than reason. Attempt an interview with the voiceless, and you might discover what Hell is. What? You ask. How dare I proclaim the existence of such a space? Let the length and breadth of my silence serve as your answer. I never discard the bread of my hunger. Instead, I crumble any stale pieces onto the sill and watch the turtle-doves approach through the casement windows. 8221; and then there is a sudden crash: a book clatters down the cement steps and thumps near my feet. Before yo...
flameinthesnow | Flameinthesnow
https://flameinthesnow.wordpress.com/author/flameinthesnow
A sound may be truer than reason. Not long ago, I climbed once again to the summit, Lucia, to make my offering, to break a great silence. When I neared the trickling spring and knelt in the moss, I realized I had forgotten all of my prayers, and the only song I had left was, There is a balm in Gilead. I wept, for I held in my pockets no great love story, no pearl, nor any other bright treasure to gladden your eyes. I leaned my empty head into my hollow hands, and sobbed until I slept. After time passed, ...
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Poetess Jewelry | Welcome
Welcome to Poetess Jewelry! We are thrilled to have you stop by. About Poetess Jewelry (Who We Are). Who is the designer? Sally Steele has been making and designing jewelry since 2010, when she became obsessed with collecting keys to use in jewelry and then signed up for a jewelry making workshop. In 2013, she took a silversmithing class from Salt Lake Community College and then followed it up with a second-level class from Weber State University in early 2014. How should I store my jewelry? Nulla aliqua...
poetesskai | This WordPress.com site is the cat’s pajamas
This WordPress.com site is the cat’s pajamas. I didn’t understand you. July 16, 2012. I didn't understand you. I didn't understand you. Cos you keep chasin me. When I don't want you. You said you needed time. Well im gonna give you. All the Time you need. I won't be comin back. Even when I miss you. I thought it's best not to. Speak not to breathe. Since you need space. And I'm here not to see. You never get the message. You never have me as your girl again. After two weeks of our breakup,. I really was,.
poetesslaureate-rhymeandreason.blogspot.com
Rhyme and Reason
Saturday, 6 August 2016. Turn the Light On. All the wall are moving inwards. So the room's becoming smaller. Whilst the ceiling drops towards me. I feel I'm bigger, wider, taller. There's no oxygen for breathing. Though the windows have no panes. And the floor's become an ice rink. There's no foothold to be gained. Everything I grasp to save me. Turns to dust that disappears. All the days that seemed so precious. Seem like empty, wasted years. And my heart breaks. All my strength fails. I have wept tears.
poetesslaureate.deviantart.com
PoetessLaureate (Sevillana de Corazón) | DeviantArt
Window.devicePixelRatio*screen.width 'x' window.devicePixelRatio*screen.height) :(screen.width 'x' screen.height) ; this.removeAttribute('onclick')". Deviant for 13 Years. This deviant's full pageview. This is the place where you can personalize your profile! By moving, adding and personalizing widgets. You can drag and drop to rearrange. You can edit widgets to customize them. The bottom has widgets you can add! Some widgets you can only access when you get Core Membership. Why," you ask? She's thinking...
Jolly Sandy Winters | Uusi WordPress.com -sivusto
Uusi WordPress.com -sivusto. Was howling. Bloodcurdling bawlings and screams echoed far on the distant walls and ceilings of that vast hall, for Peter wasn’t the only one who had ordered the Treatment. The ground was blistering hot, covered by sharp little stones and pieces of broken glass quite like a wall-to-wall carpet, burning the youngling’s feet. The heat was devastating, the weakest it tore down before they had even taken their first step. Please do so, Master, oh, please do so! Ears still ran dow...
poetessmariagornell.wordpress.com
Revealing beauty and wounds through creative transformation.
Revealing beauty and wounds through creative transformation. It seems we can’t find what you’re looking for. Perhaps searching can help. Revealing beauty and wounds through creative transformation. Blog at WordPress.com. Create your website at WordPress.com.
MissPoem | poerty,news,culture,სიახლე,ლექსები,კულტურა,პოეზია,
Poerty,news,culture,სიახლე,ლექსები,კულტურა,პოეზია,. მაგ შენს თვალებს პიქრის ჩრდილი მოეპარა,. შენი მზერა ერთ ალაგას გაყინულა,. აქვითინდა სევდის მზერა, ცრემლი არ ჩანს,. შენი თვალის სხივი ნეტა თუკი გამიღიმებს? ბლაგვი დარდი გულს მიკლავს და. უფალსა ვთხოვ შენი სახე არასოდეს ამიტირდეს! გული თითქოს დიდმა სევდამ გადაღალა. ნეტავ ვიყო შენი სევდის ქისა დიდი,. რომ დაგროვდეს აქ, ჩემს გულში იქცეს ჯართად. და სახეზე შგაბერდეს მზერა მშვიდი. February 8, 2010. მაგ შენს თვალებს პიქრის ჩრდილი მოეპარა,. February 4, 2010. ნურც ...
poetessofthepeople.blogspot.com
Poetess of the People
Poetess of the People. These poems, prose and essays are about people and their struggles. They are about situations I've witnessed or experienced, friends I've met and talked to, and people I've interacted with. They are my views and feelings about happenings around and in my world. Thursday, July 15, 2010. Milk, Bread, Matchbox. I could feel his eyes on me as I walked to the shop. C oins jingled in my school shorts. Favourite time of the day. Milk, bread, matchbox. I whispered over and over again.
Terpsichorean | Dress in gold.
If You Feed a Poet Payment…. Where You Can Follow Me. 8220;to touch something real will help your wounds heal”. And we are homeward bound…. I want this more than life. August 12, 2015. Posted by terpsichorean on August 12, 2015. Https:/ poetessparlant.wordpress.com/2015/08/12/sigh-i-love-this-song/. Yes, I am obsessed with Dance Academy. August 12, 2015. Posted by terpsichorean on August 12, 2015. Https:/ poetessparlant.wordpress.com/2015/08/12/yes-i-am-obsessed-with-dance-academy/. August 12, 2015.
www.poetesspix.com
musical theater and multimedia content with resonance...
Where The Love Begins. A musical monument to Forever Love. A mother's thank you note to the universe for the profound privilege of parenting. How do you define FOREVER? Where the Love Begins. Is a profoundly authentic creative collaboration between a singer/songwriter mother and her poetically gifted young daughter as they mine their expressive cores to define and divine Forever Love. The POWER OF ONE. How long is Forever and ever and ever? Hear the Love - - - - - (5 songs):. Where The Love Begins.
