Like soupy handfuls of river mud
Slung against a wall
My words splatter and spread
And slide to the floor
Fragrant, dark, and heavy loam
I feel the coarse silkiness between my fingers
There is something in the mix
But it refuses to hold a shape
Rather, my words form the banks
And contain the currents flowing through me
Fertile, deep, cool, and rich with promise
Yet they dissipate and have no force if removed from the flow
So for now, toes dug deeply into the ooze
I will sit and listen to the water
And the frogs and the buzz of my River
Playing in the mud and making mudpies
Some times it’s just like that
Comments
24 responses to “Making Mudpies (Audio)”
This poem created a movie in my head, I was the child playing in the mud, it was the time for letting go and for taking on something new, something never before experienced or expressed… I was willing to let go of that which I have been and all of the ways I have defined myself… felt so light and easy and new… your words create magic, Plato.
That is sweet to say sugar. Thank you. I am guessing though that your soul’s openess and curiosity and gracious listening provides the stuff that magic requires. Thank you for playing with me.
Wonderful!
Hey reverend! 🙂 I am glad you came by.
There’s such a lack of tension in your words in this one. It’s playful and relaxing. Like being a child again.
I guess I figured sometimes its ok not to be able to write. So I wrote about that. 🙂
Count it all Joy!
:).. Thank you for being here.
“Some times it’s just like that”…https://metalflowermaker.wordpress.com/2015/06/22/playing-with-platos-mudpies/
I’m waiting for the “Like” button to load…by writing a comment. : I love this. My favorite art teacher was a man who taught me the value of making a mess. It is freeing and I gained an immense amount of (wrist) control by allowing myself that freedom. You expressed that same thing very creatively.
Thank you! Sometimes it is just a mess and it can be fun.
Really lovely one!
Thank you for being here.
I am often around, but technical problems still unexplained prevent me from showing myself… 🙁
Like soupy handfuls of river mud
Slung against a wall
My words splatter and spread
And slide to the floor
Fragrant, dark, and heavy loamThese beginning lines resonated with me my friend. Its how I wish my words would be gofted to any one who dares to read.
Hey brother! Sometimes I have to just write about not being able to write 🙂
you did so lovely here. got me thinking on my next topic
Good. I cant wait to read it. Been playing around with some jazz buddies of mine doing some improve with the poetry. It is a huge stretch but good for an old dude to do new things. 🙂
Will eagerly anticipate your next.
Well if we’re not enjoying new things….well I wanted to say what can you enjoy. I actually came up with a few extra things ha ha
Very cool!
Oh, darlin’ it turned out wonderful! The senses are there. You can feel, and see, and hear, and smell, and maybe taste it a little! It turned out perfectly. And you know what? Sometimes it’s just like that. Forrest would tell ya that. 😀 Can’t wait to hear the audio. <3 Thanks for putting it up before we left.
I actually like the sense of this! I like the moving out of the heaviness and being silly, and playful, and getting messy, and splashing! It gives me a sense of freedom in a way I don’t often get when I’m focused.
Hey my buddy!