451 and counting

i burn books

on cool mornings
to keep warm

flames lick the pages &
though the carcinogens
in the ink and your words
will probably kill me

i am pleased
the trees, folded
and bound to
your will and whim,
finally have their say

in smoke signals
climbing on the breeze
into the blue sky.

Written by my friend Brian Miller at Waystation One. 

I just had to make a drawing. http://www.waystationone.com/

This will probably go in the new Sketchbook...

In-dirigible

If you have not been to my friend Brian Miller's blog, Waystation One, you are missing out. I know some of you read his lovely word-pictures, because that's how I found him (through comments on your blogs).

Anyway, I recently commented on one of his poems, that it made me want to draw a picture (I'm slowly working on it, around all my Christmas and Sketchbook stuff). He responded that he would like that, and if I wanted him to, he would write about one of my drawings. I told him to feel free. He chose this one (remember this one?):




His lovely poem:

in-dirigible

perhaps this is it,

someone's last hope

dumped overboard

washed upon shore

waiting to be found,

still learning to fly,

only so high inside,

dreaming beyond

these invisible walls, i.

quick, find a rock, break

the glass, release me

once more to dance

among the clouds until

a gentle breeze carries

me across horizon's line

- Brian Miller