"I Was Meant to Fly Higher Than My Imagination Sometimes Allows -Higher Than Any Fairy is 'Allowed'"

"For Isa" 18x24 oil on canvas



Soo... turn on the music/Utube if you haven't already.. It makes for nice ambiance for my poem below.

"I Was Meant to Fly Higher Than My Imagination Sometimes Allows -Higher Than Any Fairy is 'Allowed'"
~~*~~

She tried to imagine herself flying
but she couldn't
only fairies can fly that high.

Blending spirits in that moment...
It is an unmistakable journey
one that starts under the sea
greeted by discoveries
never imagined before.

Beams of light
from the diamonds off the water
for a rainbow to meet
and thus
a mermaid is greeted
by a magical dragons
undying sigh
melted
to a greeting.
It is not impossible to sing
those magical
nights.

And if you did not know
how far a dream can measure
how far a longing
can go
let me tell you
it is
without a doubt
very
very
far
past the doubting heart.

Magic should never be measured
not it you want to save a heart.
Never try to bind a worry
of a latent measure
for newness to be met
beyond the thought of who we can be
or of who we are in fact
are.

I can fly as high as I long to
and if you think high enough
my captain
my darling
so
my restless prince
can you.
Come close to where we are
its very close.

I want to reach that circumference
I trust
and feel the height of it
one bleeding intake
of my breath at a time.

There are circles that never end
and within that measure
we hold onto hope
waiting beyond contentment
beyond what is expected
and in that miracle
find not one single second
of rest.

Mercy should not take pity
never.

And past today
let me feel every circumstance
and feel the ultimate
overwhelmed
unharnessed in forever un-groomed.
Let me realize my own spark
holding out
forever holding out
past the night
beyond what is sighted here
beyond the prince
groomed.

Let me climb that high
let me be the beam
of my own light
and never stop trying to absorb
every single beat.
Music coming
save me
save me
forever past these days
and their bountiful
release.

Let the sky be higher
than I might ever imagine
let me at least
absorb its
reason for being
and my life
yet un-savory
but still testing.

Don't let me go
the fairy in me spoke
for I am in longing
and in this state of mind
hold out
never pass this moment.
Let me understand
my own wings.

by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen
Copyright 2008

A Fairies Bloodletting- Did She Deserve it? Or is the Bloodletting Ceremony For You?

Looking to self.. where are we within any given picture? We all have insecurities. Perhaps YOU will see yourself in this story.

Such a fairy
such a sacrifice
a bloodletting
would be her demise?

She stood outside the doorway
looking in.
If she could have
she would have let those roses
bleed
to their pitiful death.
A bloodletting of an infant soul
heartaches till now
not fully disclosed.

Whimsical angel
drown out all those intrusions
scissors that cut away
well meaning
but distant
compared to other keyholes
villain moles.

Stairways usually lead to
somewhere.
Bandages usually cover wounds.
Fairies
can drown in a drop of dew
if you aren't watching
carefully.

Who sees?

Everyone gets lost
from their own selves
once in awhile
pieces of memories
stored
come predictably.

Clouds
exposing leaves on trees
all
most pitifully
dried out.

Slipping under the surface
of any painting you choose
it is there in the artists deliverance
because...
she sees
"YOU".

So let me paint your portrait
will you?
Create a setting
past the rhythm of routine
now that we've exposed YOU
my caring queen
past the shroud
clarity set
truth
aroused?

Surprised of the turn
about?

Aroused are you?

Past any fairy
you stumbled upon
broken
there between your breaths
she and I
found
YOU.

Bloodletting
not yet through.

So stop and think
at this very second
reflect on WHO YOU
are.

Afraid...
are you?
A bit exposed now?

YOU wonder
saying
this is stupid
I thought this was a story about a fairy
bleeding
this is NOT about ME.

You've been caught!
YOU
sorting out lost ambitions
stifling your soul
waiting
for neglected days
to come
out
waiting for them
to unfold.

Surprised...
are you?
That all of this is not about a fairy
at all..
it is not about her bloodletting
it is all about
YOU.
It is indeed a trick
designed to pull
YOU
helplessly
out.

I saw your last night
wondered about your words
misspoken
maybe?
Yes.. you have been
found
out.

And all I have to say to you
at this point is
lets gather all those pieces of what you left
behind
that you have
in the back of your mind
been crying about.
Right?

Time to paint a new portrait
self
coming out.

by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen
copyright 2009

"My Tiny Angel Has Gone Off Flying - Leaving Me With a Jealous Heart"

"Euphoria" 36x48 oil on canvas

"My Tiny Angel Has Gone Off Flying - Leaving Me With a Jealous Heart"

Every other angel
seems to get it right
every other tiny angel...
just not mine.
We'll have to have a word or two
once she stops dreaming.

As if she didn't know it
there are strings
attached to everything.
Just about everything
wears a coat.

Ward off the hunter
he comes to victimize
every loose end
except his own.
Alone
foolish to own that I'm fragile
even though my angels gone
a flying.

Mascara runs down weeping eyes
stupid eyes that cry
who simply don't understand
their tears
can be waterproofed
and defied.

Deep down
I've always loved empty cages
reminding me
of angels who capture sparks
and learn to fly off.
A pattern of flashes
once kept on leashes
released.

Wheels continue spinning
for the aimless
a primary defense of the queen's gambit
of trading off stars
that shine too much
lest she lose her stage.

So I sift through moments
of unrehearsed lines
I'd never hold her to them anyway
oh angel
of mine.

Everyone's garden seems trimmed
nowhere to hide a wanting fairy
no room for boxes
of secrets
no where to shelter hidden meanings
tied to strings.

I've planned an invitation
going to send it
by a doves wing
fore although my tiny angel is far away
I'll embroider her memory
and attach it to all my songs.

Yes
everything wears a coat
and everyone understands
a certain long lost tiny angel
and empty pockets.
Despite what people tell you
and no matter how loudly
there are fairies
who burst forth from their cages
leaving a jealous heart
alone.

05 May 2009
by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen
Copyright 2009

"Pixie Myths - Fairies Finding Their Way to Fantasy Stories"

Pixie myths visited...Above is a little watercolor sketch of mine... it seems to go well with this tale. Once in awhile my splendid little pixie fairy surprises me. Whenever I think she has disappeared or perhaps pixie myths never existed at all, there she stands, as tiny as Tinkerbell, right there before my disbelieving eyes, offering me glimpses into her inspiration.

"Pixie Myths - Fairies Finding Their Way to Fantasy Stories"

Beyond the meadow
I did discover Pixie myths
fairies finding their way to fantasy stories
mythical little flower creatures of folklore
enchanting me
ahh such a lovely celtic dream.

My personal pixie darling
in a Victorian setting
sat beside me one glorious afternoon.
We shared the day and peeled off
the most delightful giggles.
On que
my attentive little darling
being a dear little audience
listened
as I shared my fantasies
legends of mermaids
ships that set sail
on Scandinavian seas
and the sailors
who had been kidnapped
because of a mermaids undying love.
Legends, pixie myths,
real flower faeries
whimsical angels
blessing the day.

I recited on...
from books once stored away
and forgotten
of princes on white horses
rescuing the sleeping beauty
awakened by a kiss.

Whenever I paused to sip some tea
or take a nibble from a bit of chocolate
she brought me
my pointed ear companion
reminded me
in song
that magic is never all that far away.
Ahh my dear pixie fairy friend.

Finding a spot online
I showed my darling elf
a certain fairies.com
Reading the last page
we chirped like birds
lured into a little pixie house
that we could cut out
fold together
and tie with ribbons of satin.
What a fun discovery!

Once in awhile
to this day
my splendid little pixie fairy
surprises me.
Whenever I think she has disappeared
or perhaps never existed at all
there she stands
as tiny as Disney's Tinkerbell
right there before my disbelieving eyes
offering me glimpses into her inspiration.
and so I take them
make little drawings of descriptions she shares
and put them in a box of koa
where all my childhood memories
and pixie myths
are stored.

04 May 2009
by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen