Pictures and Poems #2
Sef has made some wonderful poems to some of my pictures.
Here's a collection.
Daymares
by Lars
 
 
 
Shadow sees a daymare
 things turned around
Things once familiar
topsy-turvy, upside down

in a daymare:
 "what is seen is seen"
then fading into a world of
 what has been
nighttime comes creeping in

then comes the nightmare
with what to be
 is "seeing what you do not see."
-s
 
Daymare
by Lars
 
 

   Watchman,
all seeing sentinel
 guarding gates of being
  Standing strong and all-seeing,
  keeping selfness whole, 
  the mortal
   falling asleep at the helm, 
   must be awakened
  or else be overwhelmed:
Therefore:
O great mysterious
Watchman,
 the light there within,
 Awake! Awake these mortal men,
 -s
 
Wild Roses
by Lars
 
 
 
 
Breaking thorns from roses
        one by one by one,
bare fingers gently plucking
them away until they're all  gone
from roses held up close
to beating hearts that live
no drops of red shall fall
for one to say forgive.
No stain upon the beauty
of roses pure and white
against the velvet black satin
of  summer's sweet delight.
-//\\- 
 

Water Painting #3
by Lars
 
 
 
Water Paintings
knobby knuckled, stubby fingers,
reaching out to swirl the waters
making forms of folks and birds and
whorls un-named of all manner of shapes
and colors with dark and light
and shades of shadows thick and slight
knees bent, squatting on haunches
sitting on heels in unearthly delight.
beside living streams of time
creating masterpieces one after another
upon living waters
with one outstretched finger.
-s
 

Shadowland #1
by Lars

 

You have shown us the land we want,
quite close, visible, but yet invisible.
You go before and show the way,
but say not a word as you go,
except with forms,
shadowy shapes from nearby
or perhaps some other dimensions
in the midst of us
but hidden in a thick cloud 
shadows
through which we could not see before.

-s

Dream Island
by Lars
 
 
 
My home is in the deep
  forest of this Island:
I walk daily around the edge
 of the shore,
then sit for a while
with my bare feet in the
little waves which languidly lap in
 and out around my ankles.
Tall trees above my head swing and sway
as warm wind passes;
I drink spring water from green leaves.
I weave willow branches to form
a little basket
then rest beside a tree
while sipping cold, wild tea.
I lie down between clean,
rainwashed sheets woven by
my own hands...
I've taken my body away,
far away from the daily grind
filling, flooding my mind
with clean, clear waters of being
I inhabit  this island,
this glorious island.
  -//\\-
 

Dancing Trees
by Lars
 
 
 
These trees, these denizens of shadowland
          color now all daytime walks;
          We now see things heretofore unseen,
          looking into and through the lightness,
          into the shadows to the bare bones
          of forms and shapes of covered cones,
          half-buried limbs and twigs and
          tops of pines' sparkling needles iced
          by nothing more than 
          sunlight's glancing,
           some human beings
           look up, chancing
          to be there at last with open eyes,
          eyes wide in wonder and surprise
           All because of
           that Shadow,
          that great master of manipulation
          Who creates
          new worlds of marvelous imagination. 
                       -//\\-
 

Return