ten
a rosary
double digits
5th grade
sophmore
married souls
who have forged a relationship based in love, respect, kindness and adventure with a huge helping of chocolate gratitude.. enough to share♥️
by Anita Adams 8/18/17
Writing
I am a Human Being
Windows
windows
fascinated by them
their unusual panes
no panes
how the light is reflected in the room
or rooms
what is warmed by the sun’s rays
what is seen by the viewer
nature, grass, trees, leaves, birds, sky, flowers, ponds, ocean, sand, colors, streets
for the dreamer
– everything
©Anita Adams
Workshops
Source: Workshops
Online Women’s Writing Study Project
Called to Write Online Women’s Study Project
Please visit the above link to learn more about a new Women’s Study Project.
- Seeking women ages 18 & up to share their stories, poems or statement about Invisibility and Visibility
- If interested, please register for your Online Prompts Online AWA Women’s Study Project.
I believe all Women should be Heard as well as Seen.
Passing Clouds
floating across a blue sky
so often go unnoticed
in a rainbow of colors
puffy white creatures
gray and ominous
pink and heavenly
red and thunderous
scattered and striped with a rainbow or ‘sundog’
no two days are the clouds alike
look up – notice
these passing clouds
may they bring you a smile – a sense of awe
©Anita Adams 8/4/17
My Ancestral Home by Louis Jenkins
A very enjoyable piece read this morning by Garrison Keillor:
| My Ancestral Home by Louis Jenkins We came to a beautiful little farm. From photos |
Thank you Garrison! And a HUGE thank you to Louis Jenkins!
Pablo Picasso speaks
“Every child is an artist. The trick is how to remain an artist when he grows up.” -Pablo Picasso
I used to draw with my brothers for hours on Saturday mornings watching Looney Tune cartoons. I still have some of my pencil drawings. It was one of my favorite things to do. You might ask what happened?
What happened to the Artist
being a girl in a house full of men
growing up in a family where women were only thought of as servants, not friends
so, this young girl left home at an early age and began her own family
never completely abandoning the Artist/Writer within
the writer still writes and the artist still creates
© Anita Adams
As Pablo Picasso says- The trick is to remain an artist when he (she) grows up.
This is one of my favorite pieces of Art by Picasso ‘Nude’
A shared poem by W. S. Merwin
The Helmsmen
The navigator of day
plots his way by a few
daytime stars
which he never sees
except as black calculations
on white paper
worked out to the present
and even beyond
on a single plane
while on the same breathing voyage
the other navigator steers only
by what he sees
and he names for the visions of day
what he makes out in the dark void
over his head
he names for what he has never seen
what he will never see
and he never sees
the other
the earth itself is always between them
yet he leaves messages
concerning celestial bodies
as though he were telling of his own life
and in turn he finds
messages concerning
unseen motions of celestial bodies
movements of days of a life
and both navigators call out
passing the same places as the sunrise
and the sunset
waking and sleeping they call
but can’t be sure whether they hear
increasingly they imagine echoes
year after year they
try to meet
thinking of each other constantly
and of the rumors of resemblances between them
plots his way by a few
daytime stars
which he never sees
except as black calculations
on white paper
worked out to the present
and even beyond
on a single plane
while on the same breathing voyage
the other navigator steers only
by what he sees
and he names for the visions of day
what he makes out in the dark void
over his head
he names for what he has never seen
what he will never see
and he never sees
the other
the earth itself is always between them
yet he leaves messages
concerning celestial bodies
as though he were telling of his own life
and in turn he finds
messages concerning
unseen motions of celestial bodies
movements of days of a life
and both navigators call out
passing the same places as the sunrise
and the sunset
waking and sleeping they call
but can’t be sure whether they hear
increasingly they imagine echoes
year after year they
try to meet
thinking of each other constantly
and of the rumors of resemblances between them
W.S. Merwin, Selected Poems, Atheneum, 1988.
Mid-July & Fireflies
When the days are hot and steamy
the air thick with the fragrance of honeysuckle and roses
like a warm peanut butter and jelly sandwich on white bread
the fireflies appear in the darkness of a mid-July night
lighting their way through the trees
until the need for their light is no more. ©Anita Adams
Called to Write 