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Bard
05-09-2009, 01:14 PM
The Bards Poetry


http://www.authorsden.com/visit/viewPoetry.asp?AuthorID=10498

I am honored that someone has found my poetic works worthy of compiling & publishing, the when & wheres are not yet availble.

Yet none, shall ever know how very much it meant to me
That anyone would even take the time to compiles these 100 works plus to disk to print etc.

Should the work never even find its end on parchment

It does my heart fondly
That someone in time found my banner of heart worthy to fly
as a flag in the breeze, reflecting, mirroring and representing who I am and was.......

Words of heart depicting me/thee, and many as well

My dearest thanks to thos individual and kind benefactor that has taken on this task...

In debt shall I always remain

Sincerely,

Rodney Evan Bohen

Bard
05-09-2009, 01:19 PM
I could only wish the venture well,
Praying it was recieved better that 'Letters to Carla'
The books failure of success somehow...
depicted my lack of worth somehow in my own eyes

Though I shall always view the work as illuminating at best.
As I view my own heart that was scribed within the caverns of it's covers front & back.

Bard
05-09-2009, 04:23 PM
This is a piece from the collection of 'letters to Ted'




http://bardscoliseum.com/showthread.php?t=4208&highlight=letters+blue


I as well penned a collection of letters entitled 'Letters to Blue'
Another series entitled 'Letters to Dorian'

Each distinct in flavor, and perhaps better than 'Letters to Carla'
All the discs sit in a duffle bag elsewhere
unnoticed & untouched & unnattended to by me or anyone else.

I should have compiled them.

The inspiration that prompted these collections 10 years ago
never touched nor mantled me since.

They were ignored and packed away after Carlas was so rejected

Most likely they will never see lite in my lifetime.

They are good work.

Sad. I had Letters to Ted on another PC that crashed, the Hard copies most likely do not even exist anymore.

I should have taken more care, and gotten them compiled
Way to big a job now.


It certainly remains my will in life and after, that these properties
find their way to whoever finds them of value, for they remain about all I have accomplished in my life, they are my offering, and I pray they will find love and the recognition due

They were written as a letters of love to other men and women of like mind
in order to help aid and steer them through this course called life.

'Letters to Ted' earmarking childhood remembrances with my best friend of youth, waxing in philisophical illumination and riches, character & traits of childhood that we sadly abandon in adulthood, treasures of character never meant to be left behind as litter upon the roadside. Comprised of approximately 120 letters.


'Letters To Blue' written in a differant tapestry of philisophical exchange between a newly found friend, a bright, colorful and rich exchange of ideas ideals all painting the author in distinct stamped insecurity wrapped in authoritative conviction abounding, a remarkable collection, distinctly differing from Carlas or Teds letters.

And last but not least, the FIRST series of only about 12 to twenty five letters entitled....

'Letters to Dorian' the finest perhaps, this was the initial collection that lifted me into the heavens as a writer, when the mantle fell upon me heavy and without warning, the birth of a author, a life changed as a result.

Few know, what it takes inside, to scribe such collections of heart, and essays of soul.

I now wish I had spent my time more wisely, otherwise I wish id published these, perhaps then peace would find the threshold of of my hearts door.

Perhaps the poetry in itself would fill that hole?

I actually had a literay agent once seeking a buyer for Letters to Dorian, actually I had two very interested

One agent described it as a very very unusual topigraphical look, peek and insight into the two legged beast we call mankind

The problem selling it was only about about 10 percent of ALL the readers, read these type of letter collections, such as 'letters to theo'

Hence making it next to impossable to get this type work published

'Tuesdays with Morey' it has been compared to in style, regards to letter format.

Bard
05-09-2009, 05:41 PM
I once recall writing a piece about the sadness of the fact, that some with no children or family, our most treasured posessions we toted about our entire lives, end up in garage sales,

For when we no longer are there, who shall chrish what we cherished our entire lives?

We can only hope and pray our treasures, momentos
fall into the hands of those that will value them as we did.

Sadly often, cherished items are related to cherished people,
So if we end up not cherished, it is unlikely that our treasures will be affectionately held as well.

I pray that all of me, and all i ever was, and all that ever touched me
will be cherished by someone.

As I fade in those golden years, I wish I had been held in more tenderness,
Or rhather that I had been more endearing, for endearing people, are cherished as their possesions, and when they depart, almost everything they touched, is of significant value to most all

Counterwise, if one is not revered in life and held in high esteem, it is unlikely that his/her possesions will be cherished nor valued either after they leave this place.

I have lost so much in life as many have, I guess we all pass this way someday, thinking old mans thoughts, and concerning ourselves with things that will matter little at the close of the day, when the curtain falls.

My my, look at me stumble on saying things that most only think quickly then discard it as quick, yet never dare speak it for sure,

Perhaps this type verbaige is considered to merose for most, i can appreciate that, in the final run, having a conviction about where we are spending eternity, is most likely far more important than what we leave behind.

Things matter little, people matter a lot, its all about loving folk.

I guess that is why my written works mean so much to me, they were penned in as selfless a posture as I ever fell upon, I bled upon parchment for the next guy to have a leg up.

I confessed so that others would no it was OK to error,

I dealt with personal issues few ever conquer in life, i built bridges in order tio instill hope in the hearts of many who barely see a glimmer

I wrote and penned it for myself as well, but mainly for the many, that were to bashfull tpo push the pen in the direction my hand was guided.

The mantle of pen that befell me changed my life, many felt I lost my mind
few understand I found me , beneath all the veneer i had splashed on in my life in order to take the licks and still be standing

My letters were all desighed to undress and strip off all the vaneer
leaving only a person common to many, similar to the same.

It was my venture and pathway to worth, identity, value and self
most would say a failed mission, I would say, at least I tried.

As stated often in my works, it is not winning the race, or placing that matters, but the fact one dares to run at all

The courage it takes to even cozy up to the starting blocks,

The manner in which we run in honor and fairness, mattering little if we ever get to hold a trophy, the trophy is in the run.

Daring to try, daring to strip before all
and show them your heart
hoping and praying they wqill embrace the REAL you
if you are brave enogh to dare.

Bard
05-09-2009, 05:54 PM
I have always believed all my works were good, and worthy,
I dare say few readers warm up tio my style,
Or, I never got the promotional breaks many othgers are denied as well.
My value still exists upon parchment, with endless hours and days, weeks and months of hinging myself to time with inkstained parchment
bleeding in honesty,

It took years to pen the life, I should have taken the bloody time to publish the works!

Do not put off till tommorrow what you could/should do today.

Life scrambles away faster than lightning blinking, the we are no more
As the morning dew upon the grass dissapears with the dawns sun.

We always say one day id like too do this or that
the time to do this or that is today.

Setting your house in order should be a lifelong charge and commitment
do accomplish what we have set to course, to love as we intended
to be honorable in all our dealings with one another

To be an embassador of peace, charity and love
To drink life richly, and revere it for the rare temporal gift it is

To chase your dreams down with the same determination etched upon the face of a child whose kite string has slipped out of his hand

Yes, the above a quote and philosophy put forth often in my body of works.

To express love for who you hold it, today, not counting on the option tommorrow, to set ourselves to let bitterness and unforgivness GO, at ALL cost

Hence finding a modicum of freedom in our passage here and beyond

To be you, the real you, and the best you at that!

No more than this can any man ask.

Bard
05-09-2009, 06:21 PM
Times passing leaves us all changed altered and bent according to the path we take.

Life is full of gain and loss, often the latter seems to weigh heaviest on the scale, at the end of the day , for me personally, my faith in God is all that has ever gotten me throught the toughest of times.

Plus the Lord imparted to me a peace in my life, never experienced prior.
Sadly this peace has not been readily been SEEN always in my life, to my shame, i share this, Because a true peace should be strong enough to serve as a bridge for the weaker among us, my conduct and lack of goodness eminating, is shamefull, yet paints me in human frailty I imagine.

Yet, I certainly serve not, as the ideal Christian Soldier.oh no, i always knew that, despite how i often appear, a tad sanctimonious at times.

A Christian soldier I remain still, redeemed by grace, forgiven by the blood shed of calvary by Jesus Christ, And emboldened by the living Holy Spirit of God that raised Jesus from the dead after three days in the ground.

This living faith/Holy Spirit within me, is responsable for what good I have imparted in this life, whatever words of life penned, or inspiration given,
whatever wisdom I possess, whatever goodness I mirror is due to the presence of the Lord within me.

Without God, I was without good.

God's presence within me has aimed me as an arrow in the direction of good
often I have been derailed, off that course, but always have found my way back.

What tenderness I possesss, is the character of God within me, the gentle spirit I tote, his divine influence upon me, my sence of justice and fairplay, his balance within my heart steering me.

The honesty I'm prompted to display, daily stilted upon the courage God imparts to me.

Why all the words Bard?

It's simply the direction my pen took this day.

One thought leads to another, one thought built and spring-boarding off the next, and behold you have a tome!

The stuff books are made out of, see, we have come full circle.

Seeing spilled words shows i'm alive!

Living is a good thing, so words are good,

Iffing there good words that is,

Sadly, that is a subjective thing and preferance, the same thoughts and words that make one warm and smile, can vex and cause another to writhe

go figure eh?

CooCooTheLooseScrew
05-09-2009, 06:44 PM
simply awsome... I would not dare describe what I just read any further for I would defile its majesty. Truely Awsome.



My goodness the comming dayz will be a sight...The Iron warming and now out of hands so to speak...

Free it... It is a force of nature and a movement.

:rahrah

Bard
05-09-2009, 06:50 PM
Yeah, I CAN put it in a nutshell if you like?!

LIVE your life, as if today, is your last day upon earth.
Then, most likely, you can leave without regret.
And personal business not dressed.

The problem with the above admonition
man has difficulty dealing with his mortality
therefore finding it very difficult to face the final curtain.

One cannot have his life in order without dealing with the final phase
Mans INABILITY to do so, explains the lACK of living wills etc
Things, strategies designed to not further the hardship and difficult times that passsing on leaves the existing family and friends/loved ones with.

Certainly, most will put off such business.
Certainly this much I know to be true
Time passes quickly, the older you get, the quicker it passes

Make your voyage a meaningfull and rich one.
Be someone today
That 'will' be remembered tomorrow.

That in a nutshell was what I was attempting to do in my writings
was to live on and breathe into another time beyond my lifespan

What does that say about me?

Good question, that I hungered to be understood, and felt misunderstood most my life, so i set pen to parchment in order to be understood,
And most l.ikely will end up MORE misunderstood.

Perhaps my propensity to spill large amounts of ink at times, is my way of somehow justifying my existance, worth, value?

Being an insecure Lad my entire life has been the heaviest burden of all,

Trying to disguise that fact from all, that I never felt good enough, or like I belonged, or was as good as the next guy?

Insecurity is a screaming within that only God can tame.

Naturally few admit to the plight of the insecure soul, because it paints us as broken and volnerable, Lord knows neither are inviting attributes.

Im certain being adopted had a serious impact upon my life, no question about that.

I have enjoyed rambling on I think>

Though it felt more like complulsion

I think I have wearied myself however, i think the water is safe now.

Bard
05-09-2009, 06:57 PM
simply awsome... I would not dare describe what I just read any further for I would defile its majesty. Truely Awsome.



My goodness the comming dayz will be a sight...The Iron warming and now out of hands so to speak...

Free it... It is a force of nature and a movement.

:rahrah

Ah, I just now read your remarks, and certainly did not want you to think I had written right over you, nay, I read you carefully my friend.

Your encouragement & words fire my quill,
and stirs and emboldens my very soul.

It is indeed always my honor to meet your words so tall.

Bard
05-09-2009, 06:58 PM
simply awsome... I would not dare describe what I just read any further for I would defile its majesty. Truely Awsome.



My goodness the comming dayz will be a sight...The Iron warming and now out of hands so to speak...

Free it... It is a force of nature and a movement.

:rahrah





Free it... It is a force of nature and a movement.

Imagine that.

CooCooTheLooseScrew
05-09-2009, 07:14 PM
Life travels far to quickly, to not mention the good we harbor for others within
when a fond moment of good is ignited within us, we should share it,
Perhaps thats why it sweeps by us as a breeze?
As a reminder to share, the good that we feel...
With those that it is centered upon.

^ one of your quotes


Of you Sir Bohen I know this:


You have transended time and space
You have not attempted but succeeded an exhistance that will eclipse remembrence in the life you have already lived.
Granting not only your own wishes, the life that is to come will not only remedy your own wounds, but will serve as a beacon, a harbor, and the tranquility of the open ocean when it is at peace to those whom will know your words and the teachings that are layered within them.
"Know it, and know it deep"
I can thank you in meer text, but also know that the inspiration you have birthed within me drapes a sea of human beings as a rolling rain storm does creation. And I am only one.

I can only Applaud you and honor such a life, and I am eager to watch the future wearing a grin one can not produce by mood, but by grace. :)

Bard
05-10-2009, 03:37 PM
^ one of your quotes


Of you Sir Bohen I know this:


You have transended time and space
You have not attempted but succeeded an exhistance that will eclipse remembrence in the life you have already lived.
Granting not only your own wishes, the life that is to come will not only remedy your own wounds, but will serve as a beacon, a harbor, and the tranquility of the open ocean when it is at peace to those whom will know your words and the teachings that are layered within them.
"Know it, and know it deep"
I can thank you in meer text, but also know that the inspiration you have birthed within me drapes a sea of human beings as a rolling rain storm does creation. And I am only one.

I can only Applaud you and honor such a life, and I am eager to watch the future wearing a grin one can not produce by mood, but by grace. :)



Coo,

I am touched beyond words literally.
And gratefull beyond measure, to have known
my words inspired a man of youre stature.

How gracious of you to have gifted me with this timely
missive of hope.

My primary intent of ever touching ink to parchment was in order to inspire.

Ah yes, inspiration, so precious and rare, it's source not hidden, and available to all,

yet its tributaries and agents hard to find at times it seems.

Perhaps one of the greatest gifts in life, is being able to encourage another
by drawing them closer to the light/source/inspiration, through, words, conduct, and our very essance worn as a perfume.

Man owns little, though he attempts to clutch it tightly in his fist (in miserly fashion) the things he thinks he owns, yet, the hollow hole in his palm is owned by another, and that which he thinks he owns, generally owns him!

The only thing we are allowed to borrow in our journey, is our essance
be it good and pure, or corrupt and depraved, it is this lingering meloderous perfume, or stench that lingers on in time marking us in remembrance, in the hearts of others, for good, or not.

If we are remembered for good, it shall be due to what we deposited by opening up our hand in giving in words, conduct, spirit and example.

The tight fist represents he, which is remembered by none, for nothing passed through him for good, as a stream that is blocked/damed, so are the hearts a many, who gave no thought in life to those downstream,
as they polluted and fouled the very stream they traveled along.

The average sojourner in life perhaps never even is disquieted by these to follow, the community downstream, the next generation, if one is to be.

Yet the (visionary) The reverant insightful sober mans sleep is interupted throughout his entire lifetime,

Due to his concern for the people downstream, the villages beyond, the neighbors next door in another kingdom, his burden worn on his sleeve misinterpreted by all his entire lifetime,

'He' not given easaly to gaiety, festivity, celebration or the land and regions, that lie inbetween, because he has seen in a vision, the people downstream,
His burden and daily hardship whittles away at his strength day by day from log to splinter, his visage declaring the journey.

As his concern grows, 'for they', whose cry is not heard, whose voice is not noted, nor considered worthy enough to earn council and audience among the secular powers that be.

While one cries and howls in the night in agony understood by few, the man across the stream merely celebrates on in his feasting and drunkeness and gluttony of self, and pisses in the stream as he laughs out loud.

I was he who observed the village across the stream my entire life, I observed with diligence, they that inhabited the ground upstream, as well as they, who settled upon the land across the stream, I found few.....

Very few, that considered the plight of they that inhabited the regions downstream......

We do/will/ leave a deposit upon the earth, earmarking our conduct and moral condition of heart, or we will leave a legacy of callous scratched & scraped upon the landscape of time....

As I look upon the world this day, I feel I/we have been weighed and found wonting, we have injured, raped and pillaged the earth, and its inhabitants/creatures, as an army of barbarians would overrun a village.....

We have fouled our streams & made war with the village across the stream
We attempted to rule the world and they therein with a clenched iron fist,

Thinking little of the inherant privlidge of those.......downstream

Our/their/ hearts entombed in callous & pinnacled self, or seeming glaring indifferance
we leave this world in the same fashion as we traveled it, owning nothing and giving nothing, and remembered by none for the thought we gave not

To the village downstream.

Bard
05-16-2009, 08:22 PM
How very odd and timely,due to a random google search, I find a verse of of one of my favorite poems, used on a young persons blog, in order to illustrate how they felt, what they were trying to say

My oh my, it warmed my heart, to know, 'they' are finding my words etched, upon times breath, it is like really bein published, who knows where my words lie this day upon the earth, here and there my oh my

How honored I feel, it was not, all for not








http://blogs.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.ListAll&friendId=74693464



Thursday, October 04, 2007
Not heartbroken, headbroken. (Storyteller’s tale)
Current mood: grateful
Kay, I've finally understood my place in life. I did while I was talking to Nicole on IM, and I dont understand how it came to be, but it did. It just came to me like some high-wire rocketing torpedo, it pretty much smashed into my stomach and blew to smitherens all my old ideas of my purpose. Finding your purpose is like finding God, I haven't found God neccassairly because I'm not mature enough to understand such things, maybe I will once I grow into myself a little more but not now. Anyway, finding your purpose is finding yourself, right now my heart is fine, untouched and beating pure sweet rich blood, my head though is a completely different story. For the past two weeks have been brutal, awful and just to think of all those migraines that crashed into my brain makes me want to gag. For the past two weeks, I've cried myself to sleep clutching to my ipod and book for dear life because they were the only things bounding me to the real world, sound and sight. Sound always drawn me in, but its never stabbed me in the back, and no, it didn't just stab me, it twisted its slick metal insturment in a semicircle, breaking skin, muscle, and bone. Sound has never kept me to this Earth, never let me not rest, now it screams at me. Voices, music, cries, all of them are withdrawing me from the place I can be joyful at. Sight has though, always been an annoyance, I've never really liked how things were so black and white, nothing was rigid or colorful. Circles are round, squares are straight. Thats why I clutched to my notebook, my computer, squeezed the life out of them cherished them in songs, poems, but mostly stories. Colorful, vivid, hating, stories, stories that acted as if a painkiller sucking away each breath of love from me, each breath of pain that was scar tissued. I love those stories, they are my unspawned children, each one is adored by me, each one treated in the highest respect and kissed all over. This is one fact of my purpose.
The other is my role in my life has always been. In my life I've always been the middle. Middle child, middle loved, number two in sports, and number two in music. Loved more than last, but not enough for first. Its a lonely space. Number two has always been a lonely number. Never good enough if she tried, but never able to sink to the bottom. Humble, if you are a humble person.
I am not humble.
Due to that wedged middleness, I've been a witness. The spotlight was too bright for my eyes, so it faded completely from my eyes. I stood there and gazed as pain was trifled with, as screams were exchanged, and hurts were bounding the place. Sometimes I interfered, once things became out of hand, but mostly I watched, scared of the all knowing process of interference. I am the witness, I am the only one watching, only one caring. Its a hurtful place. You feel the unshed pain but cant serenade it. You want to speak out by you feel your lips mold together. You want to cry but your eyes are dry. Your well is dry. So, to block the unblevious hurt, I write, the nonexistant pain stirring in the pages, bubbling in the words. They never just churn, they bubble. So then, circles are no longer just round, they are irrgeular, squares arent just sharp, they are rounded. This is the livid imagination of my role in life. This is my unreal world.
This is the personality of a Storyteller.
My place in world is to share the stories of the world. To hand out the stomach flipping pain and the streaming tears. Its to listen to stories and tell them over again. Bless the world with pleading cries. To therapy my friends once their faces are hot with tears, my face will never be hot. Doesn't matter how much it longs to. God, it stings. I will tell every story beating except for my own. Because thats what a story teller does. They tell all, except themselves. Because they dont exist.
It is the burden of a Storyteller.

Some said he was a storyteller, no more or no less
Some shouted nay a prophet because of his dress
Some say that he pranced upon times endless day
Whilst others said simply, I know not what to say
Yet the village still stirred throughout the third day
-The Storyteller by Rodney Evan Bohen

Bard
05-16-2009, 08:24 PM
The Storyteller
by Rodney Evan Bohen
Thursday, March 01, 2007
Not rated by the Author.



The Storyteller

Off in a distance
Down a long winding road
An image mysterious seen making the climb
Footwalk to village hidden to most
Yet the storyteller found it, yes scaring most

Few guests ever found the village so veiled
Yet none ever entered like the story teller in swirl
He appeared in a eye blink, attired in strange garb
Full linen robe, made of simple and plain
Both fire and twinkle, had he stored in his eyes

He seemed to be from an age yes of old
Where myths and fables, were shared by the old
Crowd gathered quickly as he strolled though the town
No man dared address him, yet the lasses drew nigh
'Twas the twinkle, just barely alive in his eye

Crowd grew in mystery, growing larger in size
As they offered him cool wine and invite to dine
An ax cut stump, did he take as his stool
A throne somehow fitting, almost touching his hair
Then all became silent, as he began yes, to share.

He spoke of old heroes and cowards alike
He spoke of strong magic, and fireflies of night
He seemed to have stood before time ever breathed
The words that he whispered left all not daring to breath
As he spoke yes of battles bridging time to sea

He spoke with authority, as even the men now drew near
Afraid to insult him, the bard from nowhere
He spoke of kingdoms far and a near
Shaking fist at despotic principalities, with absence of fear
He stood shimmering in sun, till sun disappeared

Timeless somehow stood he now in night
While the stories unfolding full, of love and yes fright
Some began crying, while some walked away
For the words he did herald were strong cutting in sway
For he stood as a sage, from another time and day.

The fireside now, the light that revealed his visage
As his words carried till dawn break, the crowd grew in size
They marveled and wondered bewildered inside
The stories remembered seemed to sleep at his side
The stories continued second day into night

By now the whole village did sit at his feet
His breathing and uttering steeped thick in mystic
The young ladies swooned as he spoke as a prince
The young men startled by what they had seen
For the stranger had shared each one of their dreams

The Bard left the next dawn, as quick as he came
In a wind whistling in remembrance of what they had seen
They marveled concerning his imagination so bold
Encompassing a world, they could not even hold
They whispered all day and into the night

Some said he was a storyteller, no more or no less
Some shouted nay a prophet because of his dress
Some say that he pranced upon times endless day
Whilst others said simply, I know not what to say
Yet the village still stirred throughout the third day

They marveled in unison how his stories seemed so real
Most naturally figuring each story he did steal
All applauded the imagination that spawned such vast breath
But few dared to speculate on his origin at best
Yet none, ever noticed, 'twas his story he did tell.

Rodney Evan Bohen

Bard
05-16-2009, 08:30 PM
How honored I feel
Twas fame I never soght

But merely for my words (my heart)
To find a place of rest, in the laps & upon the hearts of those
such as I.....

For my restless sad lonely words to find a safe haven, harbor and home
in the hearts of others likeminded as I.

I feel I have achieved something this day
i feel i have been truly published.

My words and heart have been cast into the wind

To be inhaled by all who honor, revere, and wear them as their own

Bard
05-16-2009, 08:46 PM
Again! I find myself Quoted buy another!

My goodness what a redletter day!

I am so very humbled and honored.....and quieted in such hushed appreciation

I am glee-filled as a child gainig his or her first trophy


http://ja-jp.facebook.com/pages/Allison-Sanderson/120544040292?v=info&ref=mf



http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.allisonsanderson.com%2F&h=自己紹介:Born in Roswell, NM 1980.

Raised in central Texas, I come from a large supportive family as well as one with artistic talent. I am a 4th generation artist and to my absolute joy, my two children also exude the artistic flare. In have bee into “the arts” for as long as I can remember. As a child I was awarded for artistic excellence. I took 1st place in two art contests at the age of 12, resulting in the display of two of my pieces in museum exhibits, one in Albany, NY and the other in Kazan, Russia. I later was awarded the Gold Medal, for my “Shroud of the Southwest” piece, at the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo in ’98.

I pick up on new mediums very quickly and thrive on mastering new skills, art related or not. As a hobbyist I enjoy sculpting, painting murals, interior design, singing, dabbling in the culinary arts and juast about anything that allows me to artfully express my creativity. I studied at the Art Institute of Houston for Animation & Art Design and found my experience to be invaluable. I hope for my art to enlighten others and to be enjoyed by many for years to come.

I also write, mostly poetry, and have recently joined www.writerscafe.org. So far, in the month and a half since I’ve joined, I have placed in two contests. Please feel free to read.
(read less)
Born in Roswell, NM 1980.

Raised in central Texas, I come from a large supportive family as well as one with artistic talent. I am a 4th generation artist and to my absolute joy, my two children also exude the artistic flare. In have bee into “the arts” for as long as I can remember. As a child I was awarded for artistic excellence. I took 1st place in two art contests at the age of 12, resulting in the display of two of my pieces in museum exhibits, one in Albany, NY and the other in... (read more)趣味・興味:"To me it is art that defines our existence in the timeless collection of humanity. For countless centuries, artists have given us infinite expressions of the past so that we may better understand and appreciate our history. As artists, we have a responsibility to portray life as we see it, dream it and fear it."

"Without art...we are plain simple and undefined."
- Allison Sanderson 2005

~

"Each piece of art is a captured dream that can be shared and studied. Art is the expression of the soul, whether it be painted or imagined."

It was best put by Rodney Bohen...

"It is the pursuing of our dreams that cast us in our finest and most radiant colors, rendering us bested by no other."

Bard
05-16-2009, 08:55 PM
I remain so very touched this moment in time
over the timely goddnes and grace of God.
My heart leaping in quiet glee, like a child sharing his first secret ever.

Someone read me, and heard my heart cry
and published me, and flew my heart & banner as their own

Oh my, it is the dream come true, it was what I prayed for
to be remembered beyond my reach, because others
found my words worthy to share woth another
they live on in time

And if they found my words worthy, then yes
as repeated often in my collections
Rodney has found worth this day as well.
I have a little value.
That is such a good thing.
And special to behold.

these two little erxamples excite me
knowing, there are more, most likely
who have found worth in my words
life, and heart story told

Selah

Bard
05-16-2009, 09:10 PM
Truly my friends, it is with unspoken truth of tale
I whisper this secret aloud

One of the greatest gifts life can render a soul
Is to merely be valued, 'not' because of what you have, or have not

But simply because of what & who you are in essance

To be of value & worth, is to be hinged to honor and all its trappings

And deep in heart, honor shines much brighter than gold.