a tale of tails, tenacity, and tedium, as told by me, usually barefoot and bellowing

Sunday, September 6, 2015

Making A Pinwheel

Photo by Christopher Jobson for Colossal
Picture take from Dismaland

When making a pinwheel
you color and cut
choose and pick
pin it to a stick
and
blow hard and soft
thinking
you know the color of life
but colors change
and fade
pinwheels break
and
you are left
with only a stick
dreaming
of
when
there were many colors
and
all the pinwheels turned

36 comments:

Sanaa Rizvi said...

But colors change and fade...

What a thoughtful verse.. indeed life is full of different colors which vary in shade and hue. Fantastic 55!

Lots of love,
Sanaa

georgeplaceblog said...

So fun to read aloud. Meaningful, too

Hannah said...

This is beautiful and sad and inspired. Lovely.

kaykuala said...

Very true in Gail. One tries hard to maintain colors and order in one's life but it might get frustrating!

Hank

LindaG said...

Great work, Gail. :-)

Lynne said...

Oh my . . . do I ever like this one . . .
You are soooo good Gail!

Lynne said...

Never liked it though
When I would be
Left
Holding the stick . . .

Kerry O'Connor said...

Such an original approach to the challenge!

Blogoratti said...

Great piece, vivid and delightful to read!

Sandra said...

this is soooo true, i am now in the stick, that is all that is left..

eileeninmd said...

Good morning, another one well done. You are good! Have a happy day and new week ahead

Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...

I love one-sentence poems!

hedgewitch said...

Excellent metaphor. So many things (including us, perhaps) are carefully pinned to the stick, and then destroyed by their very purpose in being.

brudberg said...

So often we are left there afterwards...also in hard wind the colors often blur to grey.

Josie Two Shoes said...

So true, but we are also left with all the wonderful memories of those colors spinning brightly in the wind!

Linda Wildenstein said...

Damnit Gail......you made me cry again. xoxo Oma Linda

Magaly Guerrero said...

And sometimes, even the stick rots... and we must start from scratch. Powerful.

Gillena Cox said...

Left holding the stick. If ever there was a recipe for tears. This is it

Much love...

Terri @ Coloring Outside the Lines said...

I've missed a few of your poems, so I'm catching up- love them all. You are so good at putting words together to tell a story!
Hope you are having a great weekend- it just rained almost a whole tenth of an inch...I'm stoked!! LOL!!

Mary said...

Lovely....I had not thought of pin wheels in a long, long time!

Donna said...

Oh such sadness...I remember when my pinwheels broke as a child...I love how you relate this to life.

Donna@LivingFromHappiness

McGuffy Ann Morris said...

Yes, indeed. I like this one a lot.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Oh, I feel EXACTLY like that today! where did all the colors go? Loved this, Gail!

Mama Zen said...

Excellent, Gail!

Old Egg said...

This is so much like life for all of us; spinning around madly one day, falling to bits the next.

Sumana Roy said...

yes...colors do fade in life...sigh...

Jae Rose said...

The questions soar and come full circle...beautifully - like a pinwheel

Yvonne Osborne said...

I believe the theme of dismaland is that all we are left with is holding the stick. Good take.

aspiritofsimplicity said...

sticks aren't so bad though....you can stir things up with them, bang a drum, make it a magic wand.....

Other Mary said...

Great metaphor, and perfectly in keeping with Dismaland.

Lowcarb team member said...

Well from what I've read dismaland is not a place I'd choose to visit, although I think many have. The 'helpers' dressed in pink are asked to be grumpy with the customers and some of the side shows are a little unusual to say the least. But I guess we all like different things!

But back to your poem, I liked it ... well done again. You certainly seem to have a gift for poems and the many types and slightly different styles in how you write and approach them.

All the best Jan

Stacy Lynn Mar said...

lovely!
your poem reminds me of the tail-end of summer, of myself making crafts with my daughter.

Grace said...

Such is life ~ I love the use of pinwheel for life's lessons Gail ~

Sherri B. said...

This is beautifully written...such a simple subject, but yet the meaning goes much deeper. Your blog is lovely!

Nicholas V said...

I really liked this one, Gail! The memory of colours on turning pinwheels is often enough to sustain a gray existence...

Susan Anderson said...

Colors and shades do fade. I like the double layers of meaning here.

=)

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