Tag Archives: Ainsley Allmark

SPARK 16 by Ainsley Allmark and dani harris

SPARK 16

Ainsley Allmark

Blackbird

Inspiration piece

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blackbirds

by dani harris

Response
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sun low on the English horizon
silhouetted in a tree
blackbird calling to his Love

here i am,  my Love
waiting patiently
here i am,  my Love
please,  come to me

i hold my breath
to better hear his song
blackbird calling to his Love

here i am,  my Love
and here i will be
here i am,  my Love
until you come to me

i close my eyes…
hear a soft beating of  wings
blackbird calling to her Love

here i am,  my  Beloved
and here i will stay
by your side,  my Beloved
until my very last day

~~~

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complete
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by dani harris
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Inspiration piece
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not the light of the sun
nor the dark of the moon
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not the flicker of the stars
nor the tail of a comet
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not the tides of the sea
nor the petals of a flower
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nothing in all the galaxies
can compare to our love
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you are mine
i am yours
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we are complete
~~~
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SPARK 16

Ainsley Allmark

Love

Response piece

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this post is to mark the entry of  the collaboration between  Ainsley Allmark   and  i  into   SPARK 16.

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we hope you enjoyed reading this as much as we enjoyed writing and working with the photographs.

see Ainsley’s photographs and poetry at    Dolphin Muse,    Dolphin Visions,    Ainsley’s DolphinDancer twitpic photostream    or  click on any of  the Dolphin links at the bottom of  this page.

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see Ainsley and my entries into
SPARK 15   HERE   and   HERE
SPARK 14   HERE   and   HERE
SPARK 13   HERE   and   HERE
SPARK 12   HERE   and   HERE
SPARK 11   HERE   and   HERE

see my additional entries into
SPARK 10  HERE   and   HERE
SPARK 9    HERE   and   HERE

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originally posted  21 November 2012

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“Blackbird”    The Beatles

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Filed under blog anniversary, Creative Every Day, NaBloPoMo, photographs, poetry, Post-A-Day, redux, SPARK 16

··ร· wish ~ a duet ·ร··

dani:
what would you have me
do  for you if  any wish
i  could grant to you

Ainsley:
One touch,  your gentle
hand rested for a moment
on my heart,  with love

one touch,   from the hand
of a loving heart   …the touch
of  your beloved

A smile and a kiss
just to brush your fingertips
as they touch my heart

shivers down my spine
from the light touch of  your lips
on my  fingertips…

Fingertips follow
your wandering shivers   …down…
explore soft wonders

a gentle moan escapes
my lips…  my hand on your heart
feels it beat faster

My lips kiss your moan
taste it tenderly  …kissing
before it flies off

my lips meeting yours…
one kiss just the beginning
of  passion’s release

Looking deep within
eye speaks unto eye   …calling
come with me tonight

soul speaks unto soul…
coming together with  joy…
no longer alone

Lightly touching me
your hand strokes my heart again
granting ecstasy

two souls…   two hearts…   joined
in ecstasy    …in desire…
each   for the other

Passion smouldering
constantly glowing…   waiting
your words fan the spark

your words the spark    …fires
of  my desire ignited…
passion burns brighter

Heart enflamed – burn bright
body burns with your love’s touch
hold me in your arms…

already holding
you in my heart   …now holding
you close in my arms

Our lips are touching
wordless speech from our bodies
talk to each other

touch…   taste…   sight…   sound…   scent…
all of  our senses heightened
by  flames of  desire

Senses beyond five
allow me visions of  you
…I can see your Soul

the shells   …the bodies…
matter not ~ ’tis the souls whose
journeys continue

To Infinity
exploring our passions
we fly   …together

an amazing duet played by two people on one cello at the same time

Iva Casian Lakos and Eric Tinkerhess
play a traditional Macedonian love song  “Jovano, Jovanke”
adapted from an arrangement by Giovanni Sollima and Monika Leskovar

originally posted  18 February 2011

artwork ~   “Triomphe De L’Amour”   Salvador Dali
{ fair use }

“wish ~ a duet”  was my  first attempt at  a renga  {a collaborative linked poem comprised of  haikū/a duet with alternate haikū verses by two poets}  written by Ainsley Allmark  {  @DolphinDancer }  and myself.  Ainsley’s stunning photography,  poetry and prose can be found on a number of  blogs in addition to  “DOLPHIN MUSE”  ~  please click on any of  the  “Dolphin”  listings in the blogrolls at the bottom of  this page to see more of  his work.  we hope you enjoyed reading this duet as much as we enjoyed writing it.  { we wrote modern haikū ~ in the past our verses would have been considered senryū.  }

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Filed under blog anniversary, Creative Every Day, haikū, love, lust, NaBloPoMo, poetry, poetry duets, Post-A-Day, redux, senryū

∙ Ꮠ ∙ Ᏹ∙ imaginary friend ∙Ᏹ ∙ Ꮠ ∙

My mother kept my secret well.  No one but she and I ever knew about Mari.  My father was oblivious until I was six and,  sobbing hysterically,  I swore that I hadn’t taken his hunting knife and cut an X in my forehead ~ Mari  had done it accidentally.  He yelled at my mother all the way to the emergency room for not telling him years before about my  imaginary   friend.  My mother quieted him by saying most children had them,  and the best way to deal with the situation was to ignore it.  My father never mentioned Mari again.  She was furious and wouldn’t stop whining the next day “Why did your father keep saying I’m imaginary?  I’m real,  Anne!  I’m real!”  I  finally consoled her by saying that,  from now on,  I would let her sleep with me instead of  on the trundle bed.  {With the one condition that she would never cut my bangs again.}  By the time I was 11,  I got the irony of  my mother being a child psychologist when I saw her best-selling book  “The Magic of Reality”  in the front window of  our  my favorite bookstore.  Now I wonder if  I was ever anything more to her than a case study.

As I got older,  I began to want to have time to be alone.  Mari’s response to my request was always  “We’ll be together ’til the end.”  She’d shrug if  I would ask when  “the end”  might be.  I escaped into my own world by painting.  My mother said I was  “gifted”  and,  when I was 15,  she sent  us   me off  to the Académie in Paris,  one of the best schools of art,  painting and sculpture.  Mother arranged for us  me to stay in a large attic room.  Perfect for a studio as well as bedroom,  it had a multi-paned window covering the northern wall and extending up into the roof.  It was in an expensive women-only hostelry which my mother equated with supervised.  La Matrone was not only drunk on her arse most of  the time,  she was the one who supplied me with wine at every meal and an extra bottle every evening.  The wine did more for my painting than the school ever did.  I became known for haunting portraits of  a girl who seemed ready to jump off the canvas and into the room.  To men she was a Lolita;  to women,  a child who needed their protection.  No matter what her pose,  the background was always dried-blood red ~ the exact shade of  the wine I drank.

Then came the night it all seemed to fall apart.  Mari had been trying to reassure me that the painting was going well,  but I would have none of  it.  Screaming  “You don’t understand!”  I threw the half-full bottle of  wine into the corner of  the room,  then threw myself  down onto the mattress,  burying my face in the pillows.  I could hear her pick the bottle up off  the floor;  set it on the table.  She turned off  the lights and lay down next to me.  As she wrapped her arms around me tenderly,  she whispered  “Don’t worry,  Anne.  It will all come together in the morning.”  And with that,  we drifted off  to sleep.

The sky was a lovely clear blue when I awoke.  The studio was filled with a wonderful light.  I looked at the painting across the room and knew exactly what needed to be done.  Just a few strokes of  the brush completed it and I signed the bottom corner…..       Marianne

∙ Ꮠ ∙ Ᏹ ∙ Ꮠ ∙

too many years apart

souls merged again ~ coming home

no longer broken

∙ Ꮠ ∙ Ᏹ ∙ Ꮠ ∙

∙ Ᏹ ∙


“Me And My Imaginary Friend”   Colin Hay

originally posted 24 October 2011


this story was written in a true collaboration between Ainsley Allmark and myself.  you may have seen our previously posted  poetry duet  or partnerships in rounds 11 through 16 at SPARK.  i began the story then we exchanged emails with our ideas until we arrived at the above final version.  even some sentences were written in part by each of  us,  though full credit is due Ainsley for the haiku and the concept of  how to merge  the two characters at the end.  i have never worked with another writer this way before and it was a genuine pleasure.  { thank you for all you contributed,  Ainsley. }  you can find his stunning  poetry and photographs at any of  the Dolphin links in the blogrolls at the bottom of  the page.  three of  his most popular blogs are  Dolphin Ainsley,  Dolphin Muse  and  Dolphin Visions.

Haibun  (Japanese: 俳文 haikai writings) is a literary composition that combines prose and haikū.  The range of haibun is broad and includes,  but is not limited to,  the following forms of prose:  autobiography,  biography,  diary,  essay,  history,  prose poem,  short story and travel literature…..

A haibun may record a scene, or a special moment, in a highly descriptive and objective manner or may occupy a wholly fictional or dream-like space. The accompanying haikū may have a direct or subtle relationship with the prose and encompass or hint at the gist of what is recorded in the prose sections…..

Contemporary practice of haibun composition in English is evolving rapidly.  Generally,  a haibun consists of one or more paragraphs of prose written in a concise,  imagistic  haikai  style,  and one or more haiku…..Read More

i  also recommend reading the We Write Poems prompt post HERE as it contains excellent links about haibun.

image credit   goes to   Dave/swineandroses at deviantArt

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Filed under blog anniversary, Creative Every Day, fantasy, science fiction and horror, haibun, haikū, NaBloPoMo, narrative poetry, poetry, Post-A-Day, Post-A-Week, redux

·•Ꮽ• Ꮗ •· my cactus flower ·• Ꮗ •Ꮾ•·

• Ꮗ •

has there ever been
a blossom…
a flower…
a bloom…
such as this?

exotic
exquisite
enticing
enchanting
…..ethereal

my sensuous cactus flower

i breathe in
the delicate scent
…intoxicating…
like wine
drunk too fast

eliciting
a primal urge
to seduce…
or succumb…
either will do

too fragile
to touch
except with
warm breath…
or tip of  tongue…
or ever-so-lightly
with fingertip

center
ready
to
explode
with
pollen…
seed…
passion!

my beautiful cactus flower

·•Ꮽ• Ꮗ •Ꮾ•·

• Ꮗ •

• Ꮗ •

absolutely stunning guitar playing!

“Passionflower”  Jon Gomm

i would like to thank  Ainsley Allmark for so generously allowing me the use of  his gorgeous photograph.   his poem posted on 22 November 2011 along with this photograph was a gogyohka ~

Dusted
he thought
I was
a
pollinator 

to see more of Ainsley’s stunning photographs and amazing poetry, please visit his blogs at  Dolphin Ainsley,   Dolphin MuseDolphin Visions,  and DolphinDancer’s twitpic photostream  or click on any of  the other  Dolphin listings in the blogrolls at the bottom of  this page.

click  HERE  to learn more about Schlumbergera  {cactus flowers}

originally posted  22 March 2012

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Filed under Creative Every Day, NaBloPoMo, poetry, Post-A-Day, redux

Imitating Deafness { guest post by Ainsley Allmark @DolphinDancer }

 

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Wrinkled skin

Tired plum turns face

To the…..Read More

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“The Sound of  Silence”   Simon & Garfunkel

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my good  friend,  Ainsley Allmark,  has  graciously allowed me to reblog his poem  “Imitating Deafness”  ~  a poem which is one of  his best in my opinion.  you can  find his poetry  at his main blog   Dolphin Muse   or   poetry  { and photographs }  at any of  the other  ‘Dolphin’   blogs in the blogroll at the bottom of   this page.  i would like to thank Ainsley  for agreeing to let me share his beautiful poem with you.

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image ~   “Head of  an Old Woman”     Hieronymus Bosch
{  public domain }

Very little is known about the artist Hieronymus Bosch  (born c. 1450 died 09 August 1516.)  His date of birth,  thoughts,  writings,  personality and the meaning of his art have all been lost to time…..Read More

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“The Sound of  Silence”   Simon & Garfunkel

lyrics ~

Hello darkness, my old friend,
I’ve come to talk with you again,
Because a vision softly creeping,
Left its seeds while I was sleeping,
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence.

In restless dreams I walk alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone,
‘Neath the halo of a street lamp,
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence.

And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more.
People talking without speaking,
People hearing without listening,
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dared
Disturb the sound of silence.

“Fools” said I,”You do not know
Silence like a cancer grows.
Hear my words that I might teach you,
Take my arms that I might reach you.”
But my words like silent raindrops fell,
And echoed
In the wells of silence

And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made.
And the sign flashed out its warning,
In the words that it was forming.
And the signs said, ‘The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls.
And whisper’d in the sounds of silence

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Filed under Creative Every Day, guest post, NaBloPoMo, poetry, Post-A-Day