Visual Stimulation. A writing space for all...
 

An example to get things rolling....

http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5Ct94rQZT..._the_woods.jpg




Steaming buckets of water poured into an enormous claw footed tub that stood in the middle of the cabin's kitchen, brought the cat like quality to her eyes that I had been seeking. I eased into the hot water and beckoned her to join me. And she did, slowly folding her body into the space between my thighs, her buttocks spreading them further. She leaned back against my breasts and sighed heavily. As the thick mist curled up around us, and I felt the tension leave her body, we gazed out across the meadow that lay beyond the uncovered window, and into the sun dappled woods, and she said, "Maybe I can learn to love roughing it".

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.
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Arturo & Katarina
 

http://watercolorjourneys.com/arturo&katarina.jpg




Once reached the aching pinnacle of struggle I let go and in a peaceful rush faded to a dim dark wooliness.

All was release,
all was nothing,
all was perfect knife-point stillness.

Then we, in brilliant thrust of sounding joy and light, are held on St Teresa’s arrow, sobbing in ecstasy.

Now to drift the soft push plush of ocean rocking like a cradle.

Is This Us?
 

Arturo and Katarina: Have we ascended or descended? In this embrace, have we unified the world?

Arturo: Within you, my end finds its beginning. I am here in the now and hear only the sound of one. You are answer to my question.

Katarina: Without you, there is only longing and the memory of release. You are the want I want more than anything else. You are the want I can't ignore.

Arturo and Katarina: We are here again in the tall grasses beneath the rush of water and a perfect shutter of sky. What else do we need? We have saved the world with a kiss.

i've wrote quite a bit this way, via a picture. i love it. thank you. i will come back and post ... first i must write lol.

question, how do you post a picture?

powerless
 

http://www.elsaelsa.com/wp-content/u...03/despair.jpg

a gesture by one,
powerless --
wanting to breathe
like she did yesterday

but knowing,
the nurse of salvation
can't heal dying

when the lines are crossed
and she no longer belongs
to the right side of hell.

mac 9/22/11

gorden snidow
 

This was very challenging...
 

She strode, decidedly unladylike, into the sun dappled shadows of the forest behind the barn, putting much distance between herself and the imaginations of children who played docilely with store bought toys in pretty pink bedrooms.

In her mind's eye, the trickling creek in front of her became a great raging river that she carefully picked her way across on slippery stones, while shouldering a knapsack filled with the tools of survival. A butter knife, a roll of twine, a half eaten red licorice whip, a parchment wrapped cheese sandwich, a tattered copy of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn and a salvaged kite, gleaned from the highest branches of the old oak at the school, that the other girls would never dream of climbing.

She found her secret place, deep in the woods, where the only attire ever worn were t-shirts, jeans, cowboy boots, and occasionally, a dusty and well worn old straw hat. No dresses, no skirts, no patent leather shoes were required here. No mother fussing over dirty fingernails, rubbing at her cheeks with a perfumed handkerchief, or moaning over a tear in her dress.

This was her world, with many grand adventures waiting to be revealed.

Brownsmead (Astoria, OR) Old Gray Barn
 

war
 

http://gallery.photo.net/photo/1948321-md.jpg


my collection of memories
were auctioned a long time ago

so believing that mental miracles
happen to breakdowns like mine,
is vain magic.

but you've waited for me --
a love made of gambaru

hoping that i escape
from this concave exhaustion
... called war.

mac 9/24/11

visualize.us
 

He stood in the mist fighting down the screams of anguish that tore at his throat. He also fought down the fear that made his heart hammer in his chest. He wasn't scared of the cops though he was trespassing. No this place brought back things he couldn't run from. Memories of happy laughter and love. Memories of raging water and things in the water. Things that should not be.

http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3115/...c93d1cbc2f.jpg


This rusting arching metal, serves as a stark visual reminder. That which brings thrills and exuberance, melts into the mists of memory when left untended.

http://www.laworldimages.com/Beaches...61_Bc83Q-L.jpg
It only took that last step to complete the circle
Just one more nail, to finish off sealing the coffin
The ball in another’s court, left to deflate all alone
Chains and bindings cast aside, a life interrupted
Begins anew.