"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

"I Heard the Night... It Was a Breathtaking Responsibility"

"I Heard the Night... It Was a Breathtaking Responsibility"

I heard the night...
it was a breathtaking responsibility.
A reality I must never dismiss.

My whale had not been sleeping
no
he had been waiting
for me
along the seaside and its mist.

How kind.

I caught a star
with the very tip my tongue.
It melted into
lavender
and roses
and then it enlightened me
yet almost frightened me
knowing
my muse
was not that far.

I imagined myself to be floating...

and so...

I WAS.

And yet...
Glassy eyed
for fear of losing that second of grace
I could barely find my way.

Wrapping promise around me
I would press on.

Dismissing sea weed away from my path
I had to remind myself
once again
that I was no longer a prisoner
despite my past
self imposed
circumstance.

I had been redressed by tiny angels
those fairies that comfort you
when no spark
of light
can be found.
Images buried
deep beneath the surface of a clouds cover
understanding little
for its barely singing sound.

I maintain the deepest gratitude
for the whale who waited
despite my protests
eluding to
my most unflattering moods.
Doorways blocked
with the rhythm of my songs
gated.
Yet
the whale
had pinned music to my veil
and washed away doubts
with the oceans logic.

And there
within my hand
trembling
yes
a star
did twinkle...
'backwards'
and an unforgettable wish...
granted.

"My MUSE!" I cried.

And there between my canvas
and my brush
most delicately
disguised.
The colors
would yet flow freely
knowing
their essence
would never die.

Whatever caused my nightmares
to surface
sad tale
I will refrain from hearing them
no matter how pale.
Oh, not a promise
exactly
mind you
just a world I live in
performing tasks
in pretend.

Pulling leaves from my pocket
I still will choose to know
nightmares have no space to score here
and nowhere
to land past the grove.

After hearing what the moon had to say
I am resolved
and understand
stars are not all that far to reach for
when near
a destined plan.

Ahh yes
I heard the night...
it was a breathtaking responsibility.

by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen
copyright 2009

The image is of my painting, "For Isa",by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen copyright 2009, it is an 18x24 oil on canvas and part of my "Passion Series", which is an ongoing body of work. I always paint in series and continue on with them until I tire of their theme or the style they are presented in. I confess that I rarely do refined work anymore as I find it tedious and boring, opting for a freer dance of the brush so that my emotions meet the canvas in a more honest form.

Interested in purchasing the original? Contact Bob Hogge at Monkdogz Urban Art, NY http://www.monkdogz.com

Interested in a giclee? Humm that might take a bit of convincing so don't contact me lest you are sure you LOVE it! Smile.

Aloha, Kathy

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