Pink Panther Magazine: July 2012

Letting Go and Holding On - Features - 18/07/2012

This is a bittersweet set of features. Over night Redbubble has changed almost beyond recognition making it difficult to find anything, especially anything to do with writing. However, I was determined to feature both writing and art in this feature. Our group is important to us and the recent changes have meant it is harder than ever to maintain it, but it is worth it. So here we are still featuring your endeavours and supporting you through thick and thin. We’re not quite finished yet.

Sometimes it is time to let go of one dream and subscribe to another.

Finished with this dream by © Samantha Aplin

Often forgiveness is the only way we can really move on.

I Forgive You by © mermanda
I know what you did to me
I saw the lies
hidden in your eyes
the way you turned and walked away
when I told you I needed you to stay
as if its my fault
for your life’s lot
I cried when I told you
how bad you hurt me
my tears are in vain
so I sucked up the pain
and let the bitterness drown me
the trust I felt
the hurt you gained
stole the life force from me
drank up my pain
I should hate you
I have every right
but I keep remembering
what you told me that night
so I forgive you
and I set you free
I see what you used to be…

And at other times it means we have to find our anger, and self-preservation to let go of what was and join a new path.

Y E A H ? by © Nicolette Thain Photography

No matter what happens, there are some truths that are just truths and that we need to understand for ourselves most of all.

Smothered but not out… by © su2anne
“Truth be
Told!” she cried.
“Can’t be
Said…” he mumbled.
Hands clasped firmly
Over his
Ears… “I
Don’t want to
Hear!”
“But you
Must!” she
Pleaded…
Grim faced with
Thunder-clap eyes;
He turned about and
Walked away…
Her shoulders
Slumped… With
Chin to
Chest…
Resigned at first to
Let go of her
Honesty and
Integrity… then
Realization finally
Dawned…
Truth is
Truth no matter whether
Spoken
Heard or
Not…

And, occasionally, we need to bite the bullet and do that which we don’t want to do in order to reach our potential. I am seeing death here with it’s tarot meaning – change.

Bite The Bullet by © MoonlightLover

Time is a great healer they say and sometimes time is all we need to pick ourselves off the floor and understand where we fit in.

Time by © Sukhwinder Flora
The world is run by suits and ties
You know you cannot thrive
In the offices that frame you
That pay you
In places like this
There’s no higher purpose
There’s no me or you
There are numbers
And marching feet
There are instructions
And following orders
There are us and them
And boxes to tick
Deadlines to meet
Audits to complete
Applications to fill
There are the ones in charge
The ones below
The ones who are there
But don’t exist
Our complex form
Of survival perhaps
Things could be different
If empathy was a virus
Theres corporate crap
And rent to pay
A wage to receive
So there’s food to eat
And people to greet
There’s a mind to feed
And to keep sane
But no time to read
No time for games
There’s a heart to fix
A god to find
A soul to resurrect
With coffee at 8
Theres love to make
A family to create
Before the clock ticks away
Theres job to quit
Habits to break
A past to heal
A smile to fake
A friend to hug
There’s truth to see
And beauty to feel
There’s the chaos
Of all this and more
And a giving heart that’s crushed by concrete towers
There’s a rhyme to remember
A line to quote
There are hours to count
A time to dance
A time to sing
A time to play
Time with the ones we love
There are dreams to walk
And paths unpaved
There’s hope
No matter how small

Even if we are with our back to the wall there are still things to be grateful for. :-) (Who could deny these shoes are worth it?) LOL

Nowhere To Run Nowhere To Hide, But I Have My Shoes! by © Tamarra BaVincio

And sometimes we need to let go off the people we are, let go off the idea that we’re here to please others and please ourselves instead.

False Prophetess by © Jenifer DeBellis
Her filtered words flowed freely from her keys
like streams of water gracing ancient ground.
A practiced tease, she flattered in degrees
with sentimental syntax meant to please.
The fixed foundation that was built around
her filtered words flowed freely. From her keys
a silent song was cast into the breeze;
its voice grew wings that raised a charming sound.
A practiced tease, she flattered in degrees
by saying what she’d learned would most appease.
Through pet names she had fashioned or had found
her filtered words flowed freely from her keys.
With sharpened skills that fooled with cutting ease
her confidence became her battleground.
A practiced tease, she flattered in degrees
that brought a spellbound man down to his knees—
a place where bondage rules and hearts are bound.
Her filtered words flowed freely from her keys.
A practiced tease, she flattered in degrees.

And burn bright as bright as can be.

Fire dancer by © Karen01

Even if it makes us too hot to handle.

Too Hot To Handle! by © Writers-Block
Tears flow
From joy
Glowing abundance
Of nature
Spring of blossoming
Blooming petals
And the delicate-ness
Of her fragile hand
And like porcelain
Of her fair complexion
Radiant roux of her ruminant
Ruby red lips
Tangled strands of straight
Long ebony of nightingale locks
Dazzling sea green eyes
So hypnotizing
Yet, alluring
A femme’ fatale’
Rich in spirite
And…
Subsequently,
Too hot to handle!

The amazing thing about dreams is if we can dream it we can make it happen, somehow, somewhen, somewhere….

Beauty of Dreams by © RobynLee

And sometimes we need to make ourselves anew. The future is beckoning.

To make anew by © su2anne
Unsanctioned
I Laugh
I Breathe
I Am…
And in doing so I
Loosen what is too
Tight …
I bring my
Body back into
Myself…
The work can now
Begin. I
Dig around
The Discarded
The Remnants
The Midden that was
Me.
Thrown away
Without a thought
Of Care
Of Love…
One shard I
Hold up to the
Light of my
Soul… and
Together with self
Begin to
Reconstruct …
___

Enjoy and don’t forget to congratulate the artists and writers featured here. It could be you next time! :-)

Shadow Dreams - Features - 12/07/2012

Many of PPM’s features deal with dreams, and this is largely because the poetry and art that is submitted to our gallery demonstrates a continued curiosity and exploration of them. I almost hesitated to do another feature on dreams, but as I strolled our galleries, my fascination with the dream-filled courage, angst, determination, ambition, and angles of perception that were discernible won my undivided attention. I hope you, too, will enjoy this continued exploration when viewed from another unique perspective.

Dreams are hopes deferred. They are something that is often perceived as nothing more than a shadow reflection, an ungraspable, fluid form that shifts out of focus the moment you simply shift your weight from one foot to the other. But there is so much more to dreams than meets the (often impatient) eye. Dreams are often the fuel that moves everything forward in a day. They are motivational. The type of dreams that form an individual—mold her entire life’s journey—are more than little fantasies. They are deep-rooted ideas, desires, visions, promises of things to come. The shadow of a dream is the very thing that projects into the future, stepping before the individual. Separate the shadow from the dream and it cannot sustain itself. Waiting for dreams to become a reality can feel like torture, like they may never come to pass. And some do not reach full fruition; they die or step aside so others can become a potential reality. Regardless of where one sustains or another fades, fulfilling dreams enhances life experiences just as those that are not carried out do—each in their respective right. Yet, no matter how many dreams ripen into reality, there are always more hanging in the balances.

Some of PPM’s most inspiring art and poetry capture the essence of such dream realms and their psychological landscapes. This collection is a small example of some of the more recent submissions that evoke the emotional energies of dreams and this concept of deferred hopes.

-————————————————————————————————————

The kind of dreams that outline a lifetime are so much more than the ones plotted out in fairy tales, that’s for sure.

Fairy Tales Are Lies by © Sybille Sterk
out of sync and out of step
not just on a different page
but in a different book altogether
I skip and hop and drag myself
through day after purple day
waiting for raspberry sorbet
to paint my grey skies blue
with pretty fluffy clouds
but once upon a time
always precludes that one big lie,
happily ever after never happened
leaving me high and dry
with unanswerable questions
how will I find my way
through the deep dark wood
who will kiss me awake
when I sleep for a year?
the yellow brick road
is grey tarmac after all
guts and bravery
gets you through today
there may be a light
at the end of the tunnel
but it’s too far away
to even make out a horizon
because there’s a big black hole
that swallowed me
guts and garters and all
stuck behind the teeth of
I told you so and
I wish I’d known
how will I find my way
through the deep dark wood
who will kiss me awake
when I sleep for a year?
that’s not life and that’s not living
that’s just one day after yet another
someone
throw me a line
a few words will do
a light, a match, a candle
a song, a dance, a laugh
a smile just for me
to know that
just maybe
there’s a happy end
even
to a bad beginning.

For the moments your dreams appear to be playing out in someone else’s reality.

My song by © dmcart

Strange hands
are trying to play my song…
…dead hands…
with the color of death
the smell of death
the sound of death…
It is my song!
Do not touch it…
I will play it
bad or not…
I want to know
how it sounds
by myself…
DMC

For the moments you feel as invisible as those deferred dreams…

You never even knew I was there by © strawberries

There will be moments dreams will feel invisible, non-existent. Perhaps they need to be twisted in the light so they can be seen in renewed ways.

Pas Seul by © RC deWinter
The spotlight is harsh sunshine on my skin
as I stand, encased in satin, silk and tulle.
My shoes, well-rosined, laced around my ankles,
glisten with the burgundy beauty of blood.
My hair, wrapped sleekly round my skull,
adorned with rubies the shade of pigeon’s blood,
shines like a sterling silver helmet.
I bend, all submissive grace, to an invisible partner,
and, standing,
parting lips glacéed with the blood of cherries,
raise my arms and cry to heaven,
“I’m here! You called; I came. You promised. Where is he?”
No answer comes.
So, sur les pointes, arms crossed to keep my balance,
spinning round and round and round,
my eyes bleed tears as I survey the blackness
beyond the spotlight.
And, although your presence permeates
the silence of the shadows
I see nothing.
But you, cat’s eyes hidden ‘neath a mask, can see me,
I know,
as I dance, alone, for you.

Sometimes, in order to even understand the root of your dreams, you must learn to connect with the inner voice—the one infused with heritage and the wisdom of your ancestors.

Tribal voice by © Tatjana Ulbutova

There’s a time for everything, which includes a time to walk away from the illusion of a dream.

Time by © Sukhwinder Flora
The world is run by suits and ties
You know you cannot thrive
In the offices that frame you
That pay you
In places like this
There’s no higher purpose
There’s no me or you
There are numbers
And marching feet
There are instructions
And following orders
There are us and them
And boxes to tick
Deadlines to meet
Audits to complete
Applications to fill
There are the ones in charge
The ones below
The ones who are there
But don’t exist
Our complex form
Of survival perhaps
Things could be different
If empathy was a virus
There’s corporate crap
And rent to pay
A wage to receive
So there’s food to eat
And people to greet
There’s a mind to feed
And to keep sane
But no time to read
No time for games
There’s a heart to fix
A god to find
A soul to resurrect
With coffee at 8
There’s love to make
A family to create
Before the clock ticks away
There’s job to quit
Habits to break
A past to heal
A smile to fake
A friend to hug
There’s truth to see
And beauty to feel
There’s the chaos
Of all this and more
And a giving heart that’s crushed by concrete towers
There’s a rhyme to remember
A line to quote
There are hours to count
A time to dance
A time to sing
A time to play
Time with the ones we love
There are dreams to walk
And paths unpaved
There’s hope
No matter how small

Your individual dreams—from their first budding ’til their moment of full bloom—will sometimes draw you into isolation.

Lonely Game by © Janice Zroback

There will come a time when a shift in dream perspective is inevitable.

The challenge of sentience by © su2anne
The
Birthing of
Change is
Labour… It is
Hard … It is
Arduous and
Challenging… but
Without this
Discomfort it
Would be too
Easy for
Status quo to
Remain… Neither
Going forward or
Returning… the
Constancy of
Change is the
Evolution of
Self… It is the
Gift bestowed… it is
Self-awareness… It
Must not be
Squandered through
Fear or
Neglect… So
When you’re at your
Wits end
Drowning in the
Depths of
Despair
I beseech you to have an
“A ha moment;” For the
Surface is just above.
Resolve to have a
Last push and you will
Arrive to
Where you
Need to be…

The silence that exists at the core of the waiting game can feel suffocating.

I Weave a Silence by © Glitterfest

Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life. ~Bible Proverb

Rondeau by © Sandra
With not a sigh a tear or care
In gentle arms of midnight dare
Where dreams of wildest breeze elope
Roams twilight’s bless of softly hope
Toward an acquiesce of share
Warm snuggle now in cashmere bare
Suggestive of their sweet affair
A passion dance of thrill devote
With not a sigh
Tho drawn a more attentive pair
His smoulder deep, her raven hair
A love explored of wordly cope
For love there is no antidote
In mingle destiny’s somewhere
With not a sigh

Sometimes, more than anything else, simply believing in a dream is the largest challenge.

I can do it by © Maree Carndinale

The reward for patience, for the determination to see things through, for the courage to keep at it no matter how hopeless things may appear? Only the fullness of time can tell.

In the Fullness of Time by © Kanchan Mahon

I Am...- Features - 03/07/2012

Inspired by Angela’s hauntingly beautiful image ‘I Am,’ the features this week are a celebration of the beauty and complexity within. As women we are nervous about sharing our successes, often unwilling to acknowledge our beauty and place our own needs second to those around us. Today we are going to enjoy all those exciting and different parts of ourselves and take pleasure in doing so.
My personality consists of many wonderful end exciting aspects…

I am…. © by Angela King-Jones