ankles rest in wrists
below knocked about knees
limbs weave
in
around
in
seeking sanctuary
alongside
lukewarm skin
Author: meaghanmerrifield
Forget Forever
sticky lids give way
no match for the stupid strength
of curious children
eager to consume colors
the colors
which they were promised would swirl
swoop
slow to a still
but unwise eyes shut as quickly as they open
sick from
leaking fat pinks
blubberous boiling blues
seeking to settle back
into beds they remembered to be warm
to forget forever that raging storm
“Forget Forever” by Meaghan Merrifield
Evolving image
woman i was
am
will be
sleeps settled
in the river’s cool bed
to escape the frenzied burn in
her
mine
our
aching unhinged head
“Ophelia” by Meaghan Merrifield
Almost through
unraveled hours
languidly dwindle and dim with the lengthening of the day
twilight loses its luster
dusk impatient
departs before dawn
yet in hours ignored
dark swells in innocent admiration
still enchanted by far off forms ablaze
the scent of summer slumber whispers in the wind
so when days are done
the old enduring earth
attempts again to become something new
“Almost New” by Meaghan Merrifield
Half full of holes
Poetic short film Half by Alex Bohs utilizes a split screen mirroring effect as well as color filtering to accentuate how inherently different each of us processes the same place. How the lenses, constructed by our experiences, through which we experience the world around us shape our existence.
Art Mash: You Have Something on Your Face
jaws heavy with swollen tongues
fall into smiles of stupor
heat flushes faces into blurry blends
yet the rubies violets peaches and maroons
settle and inevitably cool
teal is well suited to time
in it’s watery wisdom
and the end
gracious and refined
reflects fondly on
the beauty of the blend
“Beauty in Blend” by Meaghan Merrifield
Artwork by Charles Wilkin
Eyes Alert
So much to see
So many people to be
Artwork by Dawn Arsenaux and Mari
Mustard Moon
a frame
fearless and fragile
with skin that skates
until it settles
into a creamy repose
houses little lungs
which
suck
the dust of dusk
under the mustard moon
“Mustard Moon” by Meaghan Merrifield
The Show Tell Project 