I have been printing up pictures
and now scattered images are
frozen in monotonous time.
Vivid details of moments gone,
but not forgotten. My archives
spread out upon pure pink fabric,
adding to the asthetic touch.
Image of Nana, gone but in
spirit she lives upon the print,
pristine beauty that she once was.
Images of flowers, roses
and drawings of dolls so gothic
and yet beautiful fragileness
revealed. Blythe dolls with creepy eyes
and skinny dresses. Displayed with
photographic charms upon my
little photos destined to be
blank greeting cards to write upon.
Jennifer Jo Fay
Copyrighted February 20, 2012
I got busy over the last few days printing up these little sizes of my photos and I am putting them on handmade greeting cards. Fun. Fun. Fun.
And I have recently learned something new about my poetry. I've been calling it poetry for a long time. I always thought I was writing poetry. Another writer at Triond recently put the bug in my ear that I was writing free verse and that my stuff was not a poem. I was told about meter and he stressed rhyming.
Which in fact, I don't have to rhyme to have it be poetry, but I discovered that a poem has to have rhythm or meter. So I looked it up today on ehow or ask.com and learned something new.
So hopefully now I will be actually writing free verse poetry. With meter or rhythm.
But as far as I am concerned, by older stuff still has a lot of importance even though I wasn't writing in meter. Words are still powerful in any context.