Prairie Rose (a Paint Chip Poem)

No Love For Fatties invites us to join in on her Paint Chip Poetry by creating our own poem inspired by the paint chip colors of the week. I think this is a really creative and fun idea. Check out her original post and join in too if you feel inspired.

Paint Chip Poetry


Be well,

Monty

Seeking Autumn


A few images inspired by the temperatures finally cooling and catching a glimpse of Autumn on the horizon.

A Touch of Autumn
Naked
Autumn in Bloom
Tree in Prayer

Be well,

Monty


“From Here” – New Book Release


From Here is a collection of poems that have been inspired by poetry, the poetry of others as well as the poetry of my life.

“From Here”

This is a small collection including 24 poems and illustrations. The illustrations explore ‘found patterns’, which like the poems, often led me to surprising and beautiful results.

Illustration from “From Here”

Now available from Amazon as paperback, hardcover, and e-book.


Be well,

Monty


Dancing with Fans


Dancing with Fans I
Dancing with Fans II
Dancing with Fans Found Pattern
Dancing with Fans III

Be well,

Monty


Winter’s Scenes


Winter’s Stand
Winter’s Dream
Winter’s Roots
Winter’s Lights

Be well,

Monty


More Found Patterns


Found Pattern in Red
Man in Beret Found Pattern
Nude Woman Found Pattern
Man Looking At Art Found Pattern II
Laughing Man Found Pattern
Hands Found Pattern

Be well,

Monty


Hand Work



Be well,

Monty


I Lie in Wait


I lie in wait, flesh exposed.
Skin, once thick and protective, cracked wide open.
Tendons untied, their loose ends scattered.
Muscles, with nothing to pull, fatty and flaccid.
Bones desiccated, hollow and fragile.

I lie in wait, silently praying to be saved.
To be stapled back together into some approximation of myself.
Maybe stronger, with tough scars to hold me together.
Or to be taken away from this physical world altogether.
Into the soil and perhaps onto whatever’s next.

I lie in wait, waiting for answers.
Are you ready, “I ask”.
There is no answer.
There is never an answer.
I guess silence is the answer.

I lie in wait, for my will to return.
To pick up the needle and thread.
To suture my body and soul.
With tight sailor knots.
And the strength to carry on.

Perhaps I will.


Be well,

Monty


Sketching



Be well,

Monty


Four Self-Portraits



Be well,

Monty