What do you see?
Planets and comets?
Spiralling out of control?
Or a vegetable sliced through?
A seed pod?
Peas in a pot?
A strange roulette wheel?
Abstract art?
Cheerleader pom poms?
Or just random noise?
Tag: Artrage oils
Old digital pattern
This is a Facebook memory from a while ago. It’s using an app on my tablet, but that’s in need of upgrading at the moment. I like the quality of the colours and the apparent texture. I hope to do more when things are sorted out. I would love to put a book of images together, but they would have to be good ones.
Tears
She cries quietly in a corner, there is no violence, no words to cut, no cruelty to endure. But she can see the changes. She can see the hesitation in his words, the slight tremor in his voice. Age is wearing him away more quickly than they had hoped. She was almost a decade younger than him. Would she retire and be able to spend quality time with him, or would it be too late to have a life. One where they could be together like they once were, reading each others thoughts, finishing each others words.
It’s been a few years, but each day he has drifted into his own mind and out of reality. Falling deeper into despair and dragging her down too.
That’s why she cried.
Blue smile
I see your blue smile
Sad and sorry
Waiting to leave,
Waiting for a second
Before you go.
Before the smile fades
And you start to cry
Seeing nothing but tears.
At least you had a smile
Once….
Petals
Just a simple ArtRage oils app drawing…..
I’m mesmerised by colours,
by petals shimmering in the breeze.
Water goes deep in the earth
and shapes the roots
raises a stem,
Leaves unfurl
and a flower opens
petals pink and bright.
Birds and bees sip the nectar,
pollen mixes and seeds set.
Now the flower fades
But next year
another flower will bloom.
Eyes digitally drawn
Don’t look at me like that. It’s scary, she said. The screen stared back, green glaring eyes and red scaled skin. Only the slow movement of its pupils indicated life. The screen had been blank up until a few minutes ago. A voice had said humans were under control by the Jranson Collective and if all people worked with them they would be spared destruction.
She scanned her phone. The same image was being sent to it. All computer services are in our power, said the staring eyes. Do not attempt to attack us.
What the devil can we do? She thought. Nothing came to mind, but maybe? She picked up the land-line phone, a steady dialling tone greeted her. Now what’s the Doctors number? she thought.
Trout pout
Eyes, looking up from below
Bubbles, trickling from the waters depths,
A fishes mouth and gill’s
Scales with a metallic sheen
Jenny lurks below.
Hidden in the weeds
Pike like teeth behind those lips
Clawed hands stir the water
Webbed between fingers and toes.
Bubbles reflected in her eyes.
She sees the feet of a child,
Dabbling on the waters edge,
One grab and down it goes.
Jenny Greenteeth has struck again.
