The chalk rubbing
reveals fingers, toes,
a bird-like eye: closed,
like the dust-wings of a moth
flickering within the walls
of a shadowy cave,
a heavy blotch beats.

The chalk rubbing reveals fingers, toes, a bird-like eye: closed, like the dust-wings of a moth flickering within the walls of a shadowy cave, a heavy blotch beats. |

Author's Comments
As the category suggests, this is for the I SPY contest. =bewareofthesnowman threatened to beat me if I didn't enter.
I'm glad I did, not just to escape a beating (I could so knock him out), but because I'm actually really happy with the end result, thanks to his very helpful editing. A couple of my friends requested that I provide a link to my sister's ultrasound photo, which inspired this poetry. However, for privacy reasons, I've chosen not to. Just use your imaginations (or the poem!) I think pregnancy is amazing. Edit: Apparently we're meant to say what prizes we'd most like. I don't know! Subs/prints? A pat on the back would do me fine. |
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February 28, 2008
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Comments
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Hiss, shout, kick my teeth in, so what? I shall still tell you that you are half-wits. In three months my friends and I will be selling you our pictures for a few francs
- Manifeste cannibale dada
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-- J
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Art lives from constraints and dies from freedom. (Leonardo da Vinci)
( I need to read this again...
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Art lives from constraints and dies from freedom. (Leonardo da Vinci)
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-- J
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Portfolio | Etsy Shop | deviantART Shop | Stock
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-- J
closed,
like the dust-wings of a moth
flickering within the walls
of a shadowy cave . . .
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"A work of art which did not begin in emotion is not art." ~ Paul Cézanne
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-- J
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