WHAT DO YOU SEE ?? Ink Blot #8
Here is the eighth ink blot in my series of ten.
posted by GypsySavage @ 12:39 AM Permalink
6 comments
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
Here is the eighth ink blot in my series of ten. About Me
- Name: GypsySavage
- Location: Ohio, United States
Greetings friends! My name is Barb a.k.a. Gypsy Savage. I chose the name Gypsy Savage as it is the pet name my husband called me when we were dating. AHHHH, those days are sweet to remember. I was guided to this site by a friend who writes beautifully and created a blog. She, in turn, had been "tagged" and, thus, it has led to me creating my own little blog. I hope I can keep it current and entice people to respond with comments. I've decided to create different blogs for different topics. I will keep my main one GypsySavageMuses for general topics. I have been wanting to write, as sort of a joural, my experience with pain. That blog is Chronic Pain - My Story (how original...). I eventually want to begin a blog with ink blots on it. I find it so amusing to hear what others see in each blot. Very interesting at times... Hope you find one blog that interests you enough to keep you coming back to read and post. I have met lots of interesting people in "blogland." It's surprising how well you can sometimes connect to people just through their writings..
6 Comments:
Well... the butterfly is obvious. But what jumped out at me next was two little winged devils trying to pee on each other... lol Yes, I have a sick mind.
I hope your husband had a wonderfull vacation GS. Your blot led me to think of the following!
THE BROOM AND THE WITCH
by Lynne Thompson
The poet has a second heart
often unimaginable
to her family and her friends.
It lies flat and wild
as a Southern savanna,
is an octopus sprung
from a coral-caked sea.
The wing of a bat
is stuck there as well as
a few precious ebony pearls,
a cache of blue bones, a unicorn’s horn,
old paper scraps scarred by pencil & ash
and stained by a spot of white gin.
The second heart doesn’t talk to the first –
it fears contamination.
The first heart can just barely conceive
that second heart exists.
The hearts aren’t kissing cousins.
They are not mortal enemies.
Second heart swoons with suspicions –
the first heart swats at flies.
First heart became first
through no effort of its own.
It was the twin most eager
to jump beyond the broom.
It was the original jester;
it is the primordial clown.
So some think second heart is lazy
and say that it’s afraid. That’s the reason
second heart knows that it will win.
It is the steamboat gambler, holds
the Jack & deuce, only deals a hand
when greenhorns show up after church.
The hearts travel the same wave-length
but they live in different worlds.
One heart is the broom.
The other is the witch
Lee... You mean the little yellow splashes don't remind you of something? lol
Gambo - Loved your poem. It touched my heart in a strange way. My husband is back to work this week. We had a pleasant two weeks together, but it was kind of nice to have a quiet Monday... lol
There appears to be a very fine line between Butterflies and Trolls. :-/
A corset
Canbush... Definitely. The woman has her arms reaching upwards.
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