The Last Leaf

The last leaf_o

The Last Leaf

It’s not for fear of falling that I cling,
in the cold autumn rain, the pin-prick wind.
It’s not for the drop that I know will be graceful,
the floating, and sashaying gently down.
To land once again within my family and community,
into the familiarity of a damp leaf-textured ground…
Because, for weeks, upon its piles,
I have silently looked down.

I am here, chosen by fate to wait.
My acceptance of this lonely role,
will make… the surrender even sweeter when I go.
The icy gusts twist and tease; I am ready to give in.
I am ready to twirl and descend while I spin,
then to lay a last time, with those of my kind
to let go…and become something else again.

Karima Hoisan
Nov. 2, 2018
In the Leaf Room
“Creation” Kitely Virtual Worlds on Demand

*Footnote: Thank you to Jeanne Roup for posting this picture on Facebook.

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When I Fall Asleep…

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dkilpatrickart.com

When I Fall Asleep…

When I fall asleep, I don’t remember my dreams of better days:
The ones of my youth when hope was sewn into my chest with steel threads,
When I believed all the shades of grey, that my eyes were just beginning to see
And even the words of strangers who whispered … as they past me on the street.

When all the imagery of my waking hours began to mix like oil paints
Then my subconscious dabbed into the colors to paint my dreams…from scenes
Of an hour before, mixed with fears from my child, and hopes of the future
From the wise old soul that was waiting, for her cue to take the stage.

My dreams now come far and few between; each one is a surprise
Barely done, half-finished when I can remember them at all.
Each one now, is a hazy sketch from an artist in a hurry
To slip back down into oblivion and sleep the dreamless night.

The Artist I once knew now no longer dreams with me
She just pastes pictures torn from books of my life
and calls them collages, so rough and carelessly made, lack-luster
boring, uninspired; so now, I don’t even try to remember them.

Karima Hoisan
October 30, 2018
Costa Rica

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Even a Vampire Has a Heart…Sometimes

SBubbsshot_006(In The Spirit of Halloween)🙂

Even a vampire has a heart… sometimes.
We don’t need to drain Every cat in the woods…
Now and then we take them in and make them pets,
and yes…put silly hats on them for Halloween!
Oh how we love them, like only a vampire can!

One who has seen Life and Death all together…
Who has crossed over and yet, for some hours each night
looks into those cat eyes so trusting and alive…
and feels the warmth of its fur…
against our chilled skin
our frozen faces.
Yes we love them in our way…
So, we put them down…and walk off into the woods
to find something else, a small reprieve, from the iciness…
of our empty veins.

Karima Hoisan
Oct. 24th, 2018
Costa Rica

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The Library Has Come Undone

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matome.naver

The Library Has Come Undone

So many words about tears, about awe, about love,
I named each grouping, calling them poems.
Yet today, some poems and their words are lost in a mind
of too much time..
so many fragmented nights, piles of weeks

like heavy books falling over me.
The whole library has come undone,
names lost, order replaced by chaos and fog.

Like pictures fading in a drawer,
of people so long ago,
no one remembers their names.

Like fish swimming here and there…never returning to here.
So here goes on without them…
and something else sits in the scene for awhile
where they once rotated,
in impressive schools, inspiring dreams.

Now it’s a shell, or a fallen boot, at the bottom of the sea
Now it’s here and now we have no memory… until something else takes its place.

We should always know our own, but even that goes.
Our flesh and blood born from our sleepless nights, of passion and pain,
Lost in a veil of “I can’t remember this poem’s name”
While we are looking for what was lost,
we come upon a few, that we’ve signed at the bottom,
and yet they look unfamiliar, like strangers,
who, at one time, we might have intimately known,

but have almost totally forgotten.

The whole library has come undone;
those systems we used so well..no longer work as before.
If our little word groupings,
our paintings, our diaries and prayers

are not gathered safely to sleep on a cloud,
backed up and tucked in, while floating eternally (or so we hope),
Who could say they ever were here, for a day, a year a lifetime?

Karima Hoisan
Oct. 23, 2018
Costa Rica

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Creation

Better Creation Welcomet_006
I am so happy to announce that our (a joint building/scripting project with Dale Innis) is here to experience!
I don’t want to say too much about it, because you should just ride it and live it yourself. It is a 3D media-enriched world on Kitely,  a real journey and it is my #16th!

My world page gives you a bit more information and also the way to get in:
Creation- on Kitely – Virtual Worlds on Demand
For you Hyper-gridders it is: grid.kitely.com:8002:Creation 3
I will include here another teaser photo and also the inspiration for making this world:

Snprimahot_001

Here I am, praying with the yoga frogs! Can you see me?

The background for building this world is included in a notecard at the Landing Point.
It says: Why This World?

I was in Jordan a few months back and I had a dream.
I was talking to someone and I told them I had just started
a new world on Kitely (I hadn’t really) and that it was called,
“Creation”
When I awoke and thought about it…this is what came into my head:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“From the Nebula in our minds comes intuitive Art…
Our Big Bang is in silence..just a drawing inward then a moving outward that begins to paint the landscapes of our dreams
The drawing inward is not controlled by us..rather, it takes control of us and commands our thoughtless attention. Watch it and it will grow, stay without words and it will pulse and begin to move towards us, growing bigger and filling the screen behind our eyelids..If we do not pull back..it will engulf us..and if we are brave, if we are lucky, inspire us and then intuitive Art is a possibility, the secondary effect of letting go….
That surrender is music to the ears of our muse..and she might pay us a visit. What is our muse if not our intuition, our very own intuition that somehow has been separated from us, as we grow up, so that we perceive it as a separate entity, a magical force, at times in human form, that whispers in our ears and gives us ideas. It reveals the perfect words, and drives us beyond our own human limitations, making artists of us all, those willing to hear its voice and just do what it tells us, we’re capable of doing. There is no such thing as a negative muse..a muse is always a driving, powerful, and positive force, for those of us, lucky enough to have discovered it and been touched by it.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
So..if you got down this far…you know why this world even exists:)
Enjoy Creating.!

DB Bailey says, “I think people are happiest, when they are making things….” and I agree:)

Peace and Inspiration
Karima

Now you know the way!
Dale and I would be very happy if you made the jump to visit us and take the Chair Tour….into Creation SOON!!
Anyone who has already been there (like Nat:) please leave a comment here:)

“Next Level……Create!”

 

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Waiting To Be Seen

Here is another older one from 2008
Slide1

Waiting To Be Seen

*********************************


Leaf of the red rose
passed over and stripped down,
to force the blooming crimson glory
in the crystal vase, her tight fit gown.

I stared deeply at the flowering star
her beauty stood alone uncompromised,
but for some reason I can’t explain
the little leaf, left on her stem,
focused in my eyes.

Just one leaf remained intact
clinging to her upper stem
and for a second I grasped a truth
the kind that may never come again.

My eyes then fixed on the small green leaf.
I saw art itself in its sphere,
on the bottom, smooth its sides,
but then it changed to ascending little spears.

Each spear so perfect, balanced true
poked out in an order I could see
Until it crowned itself on the tip,
in a stylized fleur- de- lis.

Upon this leaf’s subtle face, now I gazed
a free form mosaic green on green,
with spidery beige veins like grout between tiles
that separated each ceramic, forming a theme.

Then to top it off in an inspired thought
the razor spears jutting from each side,
were highlighted in the same beige of the tiles
“Oh God” I said, tears came quickly to my eyes.

We have lost the power to see the perfect leaf
because we are blinded by the beauty of a rose
We have little time to stop and contemplate,
so we pass over subtler works the Artist shows.

Only the most Creative Patient Power
would put so much thought into a leaf creation,
that would live in the shadow of the flower
and be lost to the gaze of most of us,
His subtle revelation.

Karima Hoisan
Karak Jordan
2008

 

 

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At The Cemetery

Here is one from 2007..even though it’s older, it’s mine:)
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At The Cemetery

Little dark-skinned urchin in barefoot glee



finds a small cool ceramic floor



to execute her soft tap dance.



A raggedy undressed doll, swings from her hand



as she hums music only she can hear and understand.



Lost in the joy of her own sway and beat,



unmoved by the weeping crowds of mourners



who file past her in disbelief,



hair flying, wide-eyed and innocently,

 

she dances on the grave

of a now forgotten grief.

Karima Hoisan
2007 Costa Rica

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