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    Tim wrote a new post

    Hey Poetspeak!

    Hey Poetspeak!the boxheads aregathered on the cornerresistant to concedetheir absence.they're waiting, wondering, why theyhaven't been invitedhere, to shout,or pout, or spend aa few months.Your abstract paintings, nimble,eternal, and potentneed a new place to hang.your gritty abstract wordsspray paintedacross the...

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    • I saw the title and had to check it out. lol
      I remember the block heads or was it box heads?
      We’ll see if they make an appearance or if they are retired drinking a Mai Tai in Hawaii. Lol

    • Perhaps their heads are too thick to fit here. LOL.
      What an awesome, whimsical calling out to PS. Hopefully he sees this and picks up his slack!

    • He has been popping in on the site. But you never know he may see this and pop up this week.

    • Ha! Forgotten about Box Head. I hope PS submits his artwork in here. He gifted me such a piece and it now holds such a poignant place in my world. You do him justice here.

    • Cleverly penned, Tim. What a tribute to the man himself. Speak, is one of a kind. Hope he sees this. Amazing write my friend. Appreciate you.

      Damian

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    Willow wrote a new post

    Harvest Moon

    the pampas grass begins to speakgrown brittle & dryit whispers & sighs swaying on a slightly cooler breezeas summer slowly exhales& another season quietly dies drawing me inescapably closerto that same familiar griefthe weight of which never truly leavesa burden I willingly...

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    • I wish it was my voice. Unfortunately between covid & asthma I no longer have the pipes I once did. My daughter…she’s got the mother-lode in voice skills. But no, it’s not me or my daughter. Thank you for the moment & welcome to the Stars. Look forward to seeing where you take us

    • One can’t feel loss if they’ve never had anything to lose.
      Terrific write. Poignant and personal.🙏💋🙏🙏

    • Great write willow.
      This touches the soul and gives it a squeeze.
      Wonderful writing chica:)

    • No always a good reason to write, perhaps, but you always write them good. Tribute poems are the “in spite of death”. It can never be final as long as we never let go.
      This is a statue, done in delicate honor. You created another corner in heaven.
      Well written, Willow.

      • It’s become a tradition for me. Honoring him on his birthday. I wouldn’t say it eases the ache any, but it feels a bit like giving him a hug. I’ll stop missing him when I stop breathing. Thank you

    • Life is a battle. And there are those who battle for us. It is hard when we lose those people. Great ink friend.

      • His own personal battles were enormous. But he didn’t give up until his body gave out. I see him all the time in my daughter, who only met him as a baby. He’s been my inspiration. Never lost his sense of humor. I’m told he died smiling. And that is one helluva legacy. Thank you, my friend

    • Beautifully penned, Willow. Loved the arrangement. Starting with just vocal & piano, then introducing another instrument every verse throughout. First the bass line was nice, add some light drums, some strings, add in a build, then a harder drum beat, really enjoyed your choice of music. It pulled at my heartstrings my friend, the subtle changes added layers. Excellent work!! A lovely tribute. Appreciate you.

      Damian

      • He loved music. The number of times I woke up to ABBA blasting through the house, or the Statler Brothers…it had to be perfect to honor his love of music. He used to pretend he couldn’t sing, howling lyrics loudly off-key, just to get me to sing them correctly. Then he’d sit back smiling his head off. Memories are all I have now, but they’re beautiful. Thank you, my friend

    • Makes us think of the month of Abib and the Exodus, why?

    • Thank you. When do we get to see your words on the screen? There’s not a lot of interaction happening here these days, but I’m happy to hear new voices and support talent and heart!

    • Get some words up and I will be there for them. I haven’t figured out the support system here yet. I started out trying to comment on everything I could but some never reply, many don’t reciprocate and eventually I gave up. I will never be part of the “it” crowd, but I am solidly in the corner of sincere crowd, if that fits your needs. There are a few who are incredibly supportive. I’m grateful for them, support in return and don’t stress the rest. At the moment this is the best option available. Hopefully it will remain that. 😊

    • All the Moons have their hold on me. This lovely poem held me for a spell and I was fearless yet tinged with a healing sorrow felt for the many dear folks that have flown.
      I was born on a New Moon. It is always enlightening for me during its waxing.
      Be well friend.

      • Daddy was a farm boy. Harvest moon and fall were his time. Always brings him to mind when they roll around. Thank you for your words

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