Eyes pulse through a kaleidoscope

I can hear you. In the waves of my space I hear your heartbeat. Eyes pulse through a kaleidoscope of reverberating paisley designs. The notes edge outward beyond my line of sight. I watch as the show begins. A shimmering spectacle as central vision disappears…if only for a moment. Then time, unfettered by containment lines, sends searing pain.  Hello again unwelcome stranger.

DEE GRANT 2021

In this short piece I have tried to capture an eye migraine. ‘Unfettered by containment lines’ means that I didn’t take anything to resolve it. As many would know that suffer from eye migraines, if you treat it as soon as the signs appear you can sometimes avoid it turning into a migraine.

For me these make you cry with pain. Even the sound of water dripping on tiles makes your head scream. Showers become painful necessities. Light to your eyes is pure agony so no TV and no screen time. Have I done it justice?

Photo by lilartsy from Pexels

Your painted voice signals through millenia

Your art has travelled the globe yet you wouldn’t know. You are long gone in history yet your voice lives on. 

I hum a tune and imagine you there with your paints and easel. I imagine you contemplating with your hand on your chin. Then your skilled hand caresses the canvas. With a laden brush you apply paint and a masterpiece is born.

If only you knew how your work has traversed through time. Your painted voice signals through millenia.

Today I become lost in the chambers of the art gallery as art blends and my heart soars. Thank you for creating a masterpiece that continues on.

DEE GRANT 2021

Stories for passage to a brighter day

We may be strangers that meet on a dusty road but together we share stories for passage to a brighter day.

Fragile yet strong. Battered by weather and by life’s storms. You stand resolute. Taken to the brink of despair. You share of the unexpected inquisition that threw your creative soul into a state of flux.

Yet I can’t see clearly. I hear your voice but I perceive through the heat haze of my own story. Wrinkles on the fabric of my life send off refracted and reflected light to your truth. With open ears I seek to listen, to understand, through the noise of beams and shadows.

For what I see is parchment. Parchment known for strength and stability. I seek to see your story written there. A masterpiece, a serenade, a lament. Your memoir; a collection of broken shards brought together inviolate for change.

DEE GRANT 2021

I find hearing peoples stories fascinating.  This reflective piece is the sharing of two narratives as strangers meet. Heartfelt stories where something unexpected changes their lifes journey. This is a true story based on meeting with a stranger earlier this week. Our backgrounds couldn’t be more different. 

I studied the Narrative Construction of Reality by Jerome Bruner many years ago and have appreciated the power of narrative ever since.

Photo by Suzy Hazelwood on Pexels.com

#Poetry – Hospital pitstop

I know the dark space that operations and medication can do to your headspace. This cards for mum. After a second operation less than a couple of weeks apart I know she’s struggling. When a loved one is in hospital you can’t always be with them, especially these days. That makes things so tough. Wish I could be there with her. This short poem is for her.

Love you to the moon and back but get that things are hard
Thinking of you heaps today so thought I'd send this card

Imagine I am sitting there on your bed and all
We'll laugh at life's twists and turns...beats staring at a wall!

We'll chat of meds that work best or needles that you score
The kindness of your nurses and patients that do snore

This place is a pitstop and it's bumpy on the way
So seatbelt on, hold on tight, lets take it day by day

BY DEE GRANT 2021

Photo by Jacob Kelvin.J on Pexels.com

#Poetry – Elevate from noisy spheres

It is in silence I create, I can decipher, I can relate
Random gems of unknown purity, bubble up from deep obscurity
Bubbling up clear unfettered, not encased in tunes so lettered

I know the silence that you seek, a place to ponder a place to speak
Not with words that close your mind, but open pathways all entwined
For in this place you can create, you can reflect, you can debate

And when all thoughts have quietened down, and questions lose their tensioned frown
You elevate from noisy spheres, and find that space set free from fear
A masterpiece is what you paint, random sketches of a saint.

DEE GRANT 2021

Photo by Simon Migaj on Pexels

#Poetry – Wet and wild doggy day

Happy barks resounding across a damp and soggy noon
Our dogs so glad to be let out, their barks create a tune. 

Some high some low. Some fast some slow. A baritone or two, 
Create a chorus on the grass that's loud and fun and true. 

They march through giant puddles and with each resounding bark, 
They wag their tails, run and splash, in this wet and sodden park. 

DEE GRANT 2021

Photo by Jack Geoghegan on Pexels.com

Inspired after listening to all the dogs at the local park today. It has been raining heavy for over a week. There are floods in Greater Sydney and up and down the State of NSW. A house was even swept away. Today a break in the weather so lots of dogs and their owners out and about.