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Archive for the ‘Photography’ Category

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The hunter engaged and ready for the chase
The hunter engaged and ready for the chase
A twitching tiger hidden inside a dreaming
A twitching tiger hidden inside a dreaming
Dreaming inside a tiger, twitching for a chase
The hidden engaged and ready the hunter
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A quiver rumble, a demand and a comfort
A quiver rumble, a demand and a comfort
Holds one tight in slumber nose to tail
Holds one tight in slumber nose to tail
A slumber in demand holds comfort tight
One nose a quiver and a tail to rumble
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Of mice and men who are lost to frightening eyes
Of mice and men who are lost to frightening eyes
Birds of emerald locked in broken flight
Birds of emerald locked in broken flight
Of emerald eyes locked, and of birds in flight lost
Broken, frightening to men who are mice
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One emerald broken holds in slumber men
Ready to comfort, a demand eyes engaged
Of mice and birds and to the hunter of the chase
A hidden nose and tail a quiver in twitching flight
A frightening rumble for who are lost
Locked tight inside a dreaming tiger

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Day 23 of National Poetry Month  –  A Paradelle

Words and Image by Cicely Robin Laing © 2017

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You make me laugh. The twinkle in your eye, the twitch of your lips, the quiver of your shoulders as you try to keep a straight face. You make me laugh. When I am sad, or overwhelmed, or tired from a long day pressing down on my back, you smile, make a joke, tickle me in that certain place no one else can find. It is love. I make you laugh. After a hard day’s work, dragging from exhaustion, head down, feet heavy, I lighten your mind. I have that silly face, a quick witty quip, a secret joke that you cannot crab at. I make you laugh. When taxes are due, bills barely paid, dishes piled high, we giggle at the ridiculousness of life’s little whims. You make me laugh. I make you laugh. Together, we make a home merry, cheery, silly and full of love, till death we do part. Then heaven will have to make room for our laughing, devilish, amused angels. And our suitcase overflowing with awful, groan worthy, hellish puns.

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Day 21 of National Poetry Month  –  a Prose Poem

Words and Image by Cicely Robin Laing © 2017

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Spring is late…
and I wait…
Stuck in this cold dirt bed
The sun has warmed the asphalt
The sun has warmed the roof
The sun has warmed that abandoned tire
and still I lay here in the dirt
It’s cold beneath this blanket
of Winter’s crusty white reminder…
Come on warmth
Come on rain
Come on storms
Come on worms and hungry birds
Come on crawling bugs and wooly spiders
Come on tendrils pushing forth…
I have fresh spikes of green awaiting
to be the first weeds of Summer…
Let’s break open the hope of Spring…
My belly is full and round
filled with Autumn’s splendid plunder
My roots are bearing down to ground
I’m ready to birth with glorious thunder
a golden bloom…
a fragrant womb…
a bee’s perfume…
an end to my slumbering tomb…

but Spring is late…
and I have to wait…
and wait…
and wait..
and wait.
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Day 9 of National Poetry Month 2017

Words and image by Cicely Robin Laing © 2017

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A chance to take a class with me… see more info below…

Photography by Cicely Robin Laing

 

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When you stop talking, you don’t stop speaking…

And you listen more with your eyes, than you do with your ears…

Silence is filled with a million stories, and music of the body electric…

And one look can break your heart, or fill you with love and joy…

Say it with silence… it speaks so much louder than words…

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This Wednesday, October 28th, 2015… I will be teaching the Improv drop-in class at HUGE Theater in Minneapolis. Join me at 5pm for a couple hours of improv fun and explore how much you can say without words…

And now I have said too much….

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Words and photography by Cicely Robin Laing © 2015

 

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CicelyRobinLaing©2012

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You think you know me…

So you feel you have the right to impose on me…

You say you love me…

so you worry…

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You think you have to help me…

What that really means is you want to fix me…

You don’t want to hurt me…

You are so sorry…

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You think you understand me…

I’ve shared stories and opened up vulnerable parts of me…

But you see mistakes, you don’t really see me…

I think your love is lazy…

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You think what you do is good for me…

That everything will be alright because you care about me…

But is all this really about me…?

Your answers are hazy…

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I think I finally know you…

But I would never try to change… or rearrange you…

I care for you, I even love you…

Still you make me crazy…

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If you really truly love me…

Stop trying to change me, fix me or save me…

Instead, see me, hear me, love me…

Anything else…

Will push me…

away…

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an extra poem during National Poetry Writing Month

because when life tries to knock you down…

a poem lets you land on your

emotional feet…

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Words and Image by Cicely Robin Laing ©2015

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CicelyRobinLaing©2015

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I’ve been out circling the sun again…

Time has warped and I’ve returned aged and worn…

Re-entry has left me shaky… weak in the knees…

I remember where I belong… but I am torn…

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The stars call to me… they speak of mystery and joy…

My soul travels on space dust… and suns reborn…

But my home base needs me… feeds me… tethers me…

Earth bound, alive… with heavy gravity it’s borne…

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Responsibility calls…  staking me to the ground…

Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter … my children forlorn…

I am here now… I do cherish them, caring for all…

But at night… I gaze at the skies and mourn….

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The sun has been circling round again…

Space is warped and I am as time will adorn…

In stolen moments I break beyond the atmosphere…

Traveling in stories… my mind breaking gravity’s scorn…

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I have been gone from this place for a while. Life has kept me busy with all the full gravity of parenting and the daily chores of staying alive. Somehow, whenever I come back to this blog, after being away for awhile, I feel like I owe some sort of explanation or apology. But what can I say… I am a human being who sways with the wind. Sometimes it lays me flat, sometimes I can stand tall, most of the time I just curve with its twists and turns, waiting for a calm.

I have not stopped telling my stories… I have been writing, drawing and mostly been sharing my weird form of story telling in improvised performances. I can not always keep up with all the forms of expression I like. Productivity requires a quiet space… and that is in short supply. Life has become a tornado… I am still waiting for the calm.  I doubt it will come…

So, I am back here to give the National Poetry Writing Month thing a try… as crazy busy as I am… I hope to post something every day… Those of you who know what I have been going through, will know how crazy this idea is… But success can’t come if I don’t flirt a bit with failure… I invite you to come along for the ride… 

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When re-entry comes again…
And I feel the atmospheric burn…
Death will hold no fear for me…
I have already lived a long full turn…

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Images and words all original by Cicely Robin Laing © 2015

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CicelyRobinLaing©2011

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My daughter turns 18 today…
I can hardly believe that much time has passed…
And then I remember all the days…
Good and difficult, fun and frustrating…
People congratulate me and I can’t understand why…
They say I raised a great daughter…
But I feel I was only along for the ride…
She’s beautiful, smart and so complete…
And yet, she is still young, new and vulnerable…
And still needing me…
As she wades out deeper into the world…
I hope that she knows I will always be here…
Her shelter in any storm…
Though with or without me…
She will travel on…
She is my explorer, my music, my funny girl…
And I am her truth teller, her confidant, her mom…
But even more… I am her life long friend…
And she is mine…
Forever…

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Image and words by Cicely Robin Laing © 2014

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