Saturday, December 27, 2014


"Fisher-woman" by Odilon Redon 1900

Who we are
meant to be next year
new clothing
to try on naked body,
touch the destiny.


 Natalia Kadish
Kodesh Spiritual Surrealism by Natalia Kadish

It arrives
in jingle bells
to heart’s sigh
hosting the
angels’ hide
in mirror
of perfection,
a temple
for those in
pure love,
bearing a
fruit of spirit
through scars -
to ingest,
to transform
life’s carnal way
in burning bush,
to turn the stray one
in a holy/kodesh.

by Brenda Warren

Read more at: Sunday Whirl

Sunday, December 21, 2014


Fluidity takes its power
Body empowered
Re-think, re-treat, re-born.

Rusty hinges worn
No naivety, naughty
or good stagger
by the gate of

Sweat burn panic
on the threshold
thousands of raindrops

always simultaneously
perform high,
sorted out
the choices,
alliances’ help

the eyes roam
on the verge of

by Brenda Warren

Read more at: Sunday Whirl

Shared with d'Verse OLN

Saturday, December 20, 2014

Here's music between trees

Art by Peter Holme III ~

Here’s music between trees
in group but loners,    
each with hologram
of images

observers, hover over
road of hopes;
winter darkened,
no snow

rocks & boulders,
cracked ground,
dipped in the mud
the cars.

Sounds  mingle
reaching trees,
absorbing carbon

breathe! - healing
Needle Jingle Rock
returning back
with  glee.

Shared with PU Poetry Pantry

Friday, December 19, 2014


 Art by Joan ~

I recognize
the messenger 
you sent       
to point the land
of Salvation, to laud
where black necked swans
query in agape love
the discernment
sky/sea curve
of savior island,
the palms
open invite/offering
bread/salt and
pixelated in
sailing sun
fest of water…
I build the ladder to myself,
white in long vail, light
beckoning ,
the piece missing
I am.


Thursday, December 18, 2014


In the return approach
I worry if cedar/fir/pines,     
whose aroma defusing my days,
let me go...
arms stretched before
to welcome –
now drop in silence
to comprehend…
the urge to spread
the roots to the south
waters to match
the vibrant talk of tides
with murmur of heart.

Sunday, December 14, 2014


photograph by Robert Doisneau

my head
has been thru all
of life

lunatic, my soul
space crafted
endeavor per endeavor
to spread the synergy
to save loser tangled
planets’ treads
so angels could safely 
return home in peace…

Sunday Whirl~ by Brenda Warren

Read more at: Sunday Whirl, Magpie Tales

Friday, December 12, 2014

A miracle

“The day demands only a key”
E. Montale

When asked “what do you want?”
I shake the wings grown tired
of routine routs riding
in cascade of nesting issues
serving dear to heart souls.

I shake the wings in a case
the miracle stuck to
the magnet they've become
loving the work they do.

The miracle sometimes slips
through fingers holding invisible
stones of decoys and debris
detoxifying the Earth.

When found it looks like plain keys
red rose plate pendant attached
to bring the love where you
use them…

Shared with PU Poetry Pantry

Thursday, December 11, 2014


Sneaky shadow flashed through
the side of left cheek.
Bare and black
what the business
keeps in air full of strength
molecule particles,
the pixels of flux
still visible
monochrome form...

came in the light to touch
dusty walls, photos, plates,
swards of past times,
competitions, meetings with
friends and petitions
to commit and join,
fetishes of joy,

piano used to played ecossaises,
unsteady sounds hanging
in wooden ceiling
hidden in plight,
and occasional spiders
stumble there, cobweb
chords dripping on the keys
scattered around in the
living space of room
and veranda…

Wednesday, December 10, 2014

The hum of evening thins away *


When sunset arches above the ‘feels big’ things,
 worn-down blunt edges touching the ground,
yet distant to make all equal, to converse
the keys and passwords to hue memory,
to fold and save in carved earthy womb
where petals in the flowerbed so satisfied of gifts
received, uncurled/nurtured by bugs so treasured
and guard the giving…

When sunset arches…
I feel the breath
Of night.

The life gets lethargic, drunk of itself, vanished
to be born again in dawn dress with roses bushes,
fast perky promises of longer days, pensive nights of
bittersweet tears and cues, missing words of love
required from others, but resisted to follow through
by us.

* Eugenio Montale "The Occasions" ~ used one of the poetry line

Read more at: Three Word Wednesday, PU Mid-Week Motif

Tuesday, December 9, 2014

Winter blues

The winter comes again
the old girlfriend
so arrogant and cold

the snow swans pack
is winging in the sky,
my head in blues...

the sounds promising
and gaily snow flaking
the reindeer song of

the summer flirty
flicker fall at frosty
bottom of heart well...

the pensive artist
painted with whimsy
laces thoughtlessly

so neatly covered 
the memory of
fairy telling days...

Inspired by  d'Verse: Winter Blues

Sunday, December 7, 2014


Full moon rise on dark twilight sky ~

Drinking the velvet of
evergreen pines
the pupils of eyes
become dilated.

Zero - zest temperature.
Striking, blinded,
drifting - I've gone

Gemini full moon -
buzz of adventure.
Think: premonition ...
Success. Love. Romance.

Ascending  moon
threw a shawl
woven in the stars
on shoulders of
meadows in hue.

Failed to feign
in down to earth
of getting somewhere.
I’ve already arrived.'

Friday, December 5, 2014

A bustle

We’re returning home
crispy snow crackles
under the feet,
voices mingle.

The whole day of touching
with someone’s heart,
credulous necks

Holding the door open
for insights and issues,
loop back for granules
of sense,

and reason
our next entree
to sprinkle the magic spree
to find the solace
in distraction

Anthropometry of Earth…

Read more at: d'Verse Meeting the Bar ~  Jargon, Buzzwords and Management Speak

Shared with PU Poetry Pantry

Wednesday, December 3, 2014

Hands of eternity

“This slow turning of eyes 
now able to see…”
E. Montale

Two balls, flashing in darkness,
observing, absorbed, adapting
to see the contours of bodies
and edges swaying away,
blurry becomes the beginning
of studying…

So there we are tracing
each other dreams, convexity
compliments concavity,
and between – insulation-
whole possibilities, where
No swaps with Yes
yin & yang principles…

Transparent soul, jester
playing with two eye balls
in his hands of eternity,
standup comedian-
the one, we afraid of, - a clown
why? ’cause reminds our 
hidden longing…
laughing out loud [lol].

Read more at: Poetry Jam

Monday, December 1, 2014

Bond of Union

 M.C. Escher
Bond of Union, 1956, by M. C. Escher 

Etching an image into a smooth copper plate
intention to carve plane landscape with gouge,
linoleum cutter,
he loved bun-shaped roof and rocks, choosing
not architect, but art craft

printing and peeling others skins off,
exchanging the balls, brain rolls with breeze
vertical/horizontal metamorphosis,
climbing to mountains through labyrinths
to be able to touch his part of stars, bent of bond.

He gazed into maze – no time waste –
rattled through scattered corridors,
corrida of thoughts, interlocking forms,
snakes and ladders, gathering in plain
secular splendor of harvest union.

by Brenda Warren

Read more at: Sunday Whirl, Magpie Tales

Friday, November 28, 2014



Deriving the virtue from irony
we [live]
type of visual art work by sticking cloth
when morning haze covers up
dreaming figures
silhouetting at ocean horizon

the magic eye puzzle
in graffiti days overlaid  nights

ancient harmony
pentatonic crop
I smile/jive
long-short, long-short
Thanks, pen reverence

Arriving with waves this year’s Love.
Turquoise Lagoon. Castanets of heart.
Summer playground.

Inner life
fantasy dreamland
aligned with Adagio
Tea green and regal
aqua light passage
to India

mellow toes in the know of seasons
poking into Pandora box
as forgotten canyon,
echoing untitled reflection
stars exploded second time
in century…

Sojourn at breathing spaces
to ponder a peace.

Read more at: PU Mid-Wee Motif, d'Verse MTB: Thanksgiving

Shared with PU Poetry Pantry

Tuesday, November 25, 2014


photo by Mona Bouzarout ~ In memory of a man ~ flickr

You looked in the mirror
learning what is beyond
facial features…

Like the hand on the weight
scale, the head bouncing
leaned to the left or right.

You smile, then surprisingly
raise the brows,
learning how to think
a thought, perhaps.

Pulled corners of lips
and breathed fast,
exhaling on face
the mirror showed you…

Steamy, reflection
will puzzle us,
finger so many chances
to find real face…

Monday, November 24, 2014

Cloudy moments

'Snowstorm' by Maurice de Vlaminck

They stand weak-kneed, altered,
the grey-blue dim fright,
tears-icicles stuck
in the tops.

Still flutter, the life pirouetting,
spills stained laughter on
forgotten stumps/logs.

Aligned to walls,
guard lifeless silence,
neglected desires’
inner child.

Considered miserable,
the final decision
postponed, passed on to
snow storming 

Sunday Whirl 188

Read more at: Sunday Whirl, Magpie Tales

Friday, November 21, 2014

Above as Below

 Artwork by Cheryl Hrudka
Artwork by Cheryl Hrudka

Hmmm…whi-i-s-sper…snap, snap!
Flying above the bodies
a fear, hiding in creases of eyelids.

I balloon to the ceiling
aware of your poking nose,
chewing habits and ready
to kick feet.

The root rod keeps
here and now.

Your words rolling
multiple faces
mouths opened and closed
beard broad way down
hatching as reaching
the cracked concrete

The miracle of 59 become 00
having too divine shape
the minute absorbs eternity…

Read more at: PU Poetry Pantry

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Abstract concrete motif

'Rapture with music' by Gholam Yunessi

At first
notorious motif
serving better
our toxic and fiery

turning tables,
ambiguous chairs,
letting stage be
our home,

we’re forging the reason,
emulated precarious
piano pauses,
the weight
over lurking pensive
floor lamps,
highlighted the
blooming Bonsai,
blurry painting
aligned with nodding
Hawaiian turtles. 

Monday, November 17, 2014

Lingering jump

Highway ~ courtesy of Tess Kincaid

Settled in the restless
midst of night
I road two-sides ways.

The street lamps lights
highlight the margin line,
where soul mix & self-fix
toasty subtle skin
like ambrose within.

Yields the palate
of shadow hunt
I’m testing a lingering jump
quantum way
to embrace the winter hut.

A prisoner of four walls
I'm a ghost of
layered thoughts.

A fresh start shimmering
tends to spill.
Behind the veil
of closed eyes
the hint.

by Brenda Warren ~ Sunday Whirl

Sunday, November 16, 2014

Preoccupied PC

Art by Dale Frank, Australia

Oh, she hadn't turned off me the best,
So many viruses collected
And put them in the treasure chest.

Ah, what a wonder of selected mess,
So many images emerged,
When pressed ‘to show the request’.

So careless, to plug in back forgot,
Enjoyed the ‘couch potato’ movie -
That put me in the sleeping mode.

My job could be a joy, not a jolt,
If extra folders would be sorted,
Compressed on a disk under the code. 

Read more at: Creative Bloomings: Getting to work. 
"Write a poem about an inanimate object getting ready to perform its function." ~ Walter J Wojtanik

Saturday, November 15, 2014

The Legend

Pulling strings/many hearts,
his heart opens to give,
to sink into music
Jacuzzi, release the
burden of life, to heal
the wounds, where it hurts.

At first, voice not strong,
not his voice, the guitar
solo touching the air,
testing the walls and
material values,
volumes of love returns.

Soul aligned in his wealth
with purpose, he amazes,
brings charisma, connects
all in one, quotes to put
hands together and
follow him in one breath.

Read more at: Imaginary gardens with real toads: Love of My Life

Shared with PU Poetry Pantry

Friday, November 14, 2014


Choker by I. Golembo

                      "Find a break in the meshes of the net
                        that tightens around us,leap out, flee!
                                                                        E. Montale

Souls sealed in
a snow membrane,
accepted will
stretching the brain,
loosened loops
torn apart
unclaimed patterns
chaotic art.

Worlds are entangled into
electromagnetic waves.
Layers of Thoughts –
vibrant  emotions recharged…

I used to tied the tight head knot,
Now – no strings attached.

Read more at: d'Verse Meeting the Bar