Tuesday, August 4, 2009

Deep Purple

kindling temp

she used to think
better to keep my feelings
down below, tucked away,
in the dark, shaded, perhaps
jaded, more than likely.

but thinks again
better to lift my feelings
high above me, reaching out,
in the clear, tossed, highly
glossed, ever and just so …

… as if to say
i’ve arrived now, tip-top,
shifting shape, firmly planted,
above-board, blessed, never
stressed, hither and fro.

... yeah, so, this was meant to be the next photo in the photo-into-words thingy-wingy that i'm doing with gary and kerry.

however, i'm out of step, and essentially skipped in line, since gary has yet to submit his words for kerry's last photo ...

however, i'm also very busy of late so maybe i can just post this picture now, to start things off again, and the guys can play catch-up ... meaning gary owes words for kerry's pic, words for this, and also gets to pick the next pic ...

... and kerry owes words for this, and then can rest on his laurels until the next pic comes out from gary.

as if, and as tho' that made any sense.

i've been sitting on this picture ever since i happened to take it, in early june, through the broken window in the cellar wall of a one-room, two story/lofty log cabin.

i took this picture without flash and it really showed the depths of the cellar, but also the possibilities and light coming through the open trap door at the top of the stairs.

another door, off to the side, was open, but led to the dark stairs that climb toward the yard, but the light was kept at bay by a solid slanted door hugging the earth on the other side.

i also took a picture with flash, which totally illuminated the basement, but my feelings held in that i felt the darkened lower portion of the house told far more than the same space lit by artificial light.

it also reminded me of emotional places where i have been, where i kept quiet, thinking it best, to live and let live, no matter if my own thoughts and feelings drove my heart sick inside.

... and it reminded me of the song by Deep Purple, "In the Basement" ...

"...I came 'round to your front door, your back door was locked. Pushed your button, rang your bell, you didn't hear me knock. Oh baby, I saw your window open wide, so I crawled insideI ran to the top floor, but you were on the ground ... Fire in the basemen. Burn me up, scream and shout. There's fire in the basement. Only you can put it out ..."

... yeah, and so, and stuff like that ... carry on fellas ... i skipped a turn and it's your turn(s) now ...

1 comment:

koe said...

Anne - the photo is wonderful and the poem is too. I like those internal rhymes (shaded, jaded. . . tossed, glossed). Your writing about dream and the kiss is great too. . .