Design Painting Poetry: An Encore To Ecstasy

By Barbara M Schwarz

We fumble and we mumble, and then we become so humble, when we listen inside to a matter of pride: our own creativity joy ride. Here we confide what we let glide, with seasons we slide when we know how to flow in where we go with what we know: our own show to flower and grow !

• Language: English
• Publisher: b.schwarzgreentor.com
• Release date: Jul 27, 2015
• ISBN: 9781910774403

Barbara M Schwarz

Hi - all the books have now moved to make way for new ventures : thanks to those that enjoyed them !

Book preview

Miscellany – Strains of a Symphony (The last remains of me)

Winter’s Coil – Unburdened Toil

Light Time Continuous Breath Line

Where you are the wishing star

What was before

What do you wish to say (enough for today)?

What came before no longer matters anymore

We Three Are One – Cerulean Sun

Water’s Daughter (and inky flow)

Water mirror see the very best now free

Waltz arrays the music plays

Victoriously blossomed easily

Twitter Links It all Just Blinks

Twinned Affinity – the subtlety to see (the sun shimmering back at me)

Oh Glorious One – twinkle with the sun

Trojan course – new water force

Tiger in a butterfly

The None For Sale Collection

The medieval view had no further ado

The strength to climb my own design

The Joy of Surprise Icy Water Wise

The Endless Queue Life Renew

The Honeycomb – The World’s an energy zone

The heat of all eruption

The deepest conversations

The ‘tadpole wine’ rolled out in time

The Appleseed Index Explained

The Appleseed Index in Action

Tacco undone – now comes the sun (a diary excerpt)

Sprouting from the base » a leap in relational design

Know yourself your own compassion

Songbird I hear your every word

Soul rain maker

Soul’s music

So little now was left …what once defined my happiness

Snoozy way all day

Sleeping leaves a new treatise

Sleeping leaves the bareness frees

Shudder flight a darkness sight

Sharply broader

She stooped to conker

See cut free

Seasons how they turn

Sacred spring

Sacred moment free the sun held onto me

Roses in bloom Spring’s prettiest tune

Rhythm play

Renaissance Polyprime

Remembrance Tree (a special part of you and me)

Remembrance Tree – the wind blows free

Remembering my dreams

Release to go the final flow

Reflected there a peaceful atmosphere

Postcards on the verge of time

Poetology Cronology – PEP’s Methodology

Pink and blink

One big flow the endless bee show

One lovely thing

Ombra mai fu what the sun gives you

Oh moon oh moon

Now the sun in all my run

No agenda

Namaste my friend, we’re nearly at the end

My dreams realised

A final backyard purge – let all joy surge

Luminosity courage velocity

Mantra of Design Art Prime

Magnificus Life that great seductress

Magic loom

Life beating down

Life’s new know-how

Landslide victory coming straight at me

Just soldier through – a brand new dawn awakes in you

Just trust

In natural light bright insight

Inspiration a product of its own creation

And in conclusion…

Purple Eyes Publishing The Value of Knowing

Winter's Coil - Unburdened Toil

Upturned soil – now release

winter's coil

I turn and burn and

ache away – no more

the light at play

upturned soil -

now rest your

toil – nothing

now to add

or spoil -

just try to

get some rest

in winter's cosy

nest and when

next the sun comes

through – the first

you'll ever do is

welcome sunlight

through

but for

now be like a

stone – twitch no

muscle and no bone

(for there you know that

you alone preside over

a golden throne)

for what you think

to own – let the

music hone what in

time you'll see grown

my quiet bird, fluffed up

heard : "such a lovely

bird was the last serendipity

heard" the word the word

rested gently heard: I mean

you no harm and in such

gentle farm, life at ease to

charm, the gentle little bird

rested quietly on each word -

the word – the word : gentle

heard and gentle now I see,

it all came back to me that

every living tree rejoices just

with me – at serendipity: I

cast a spell for I could tell

I was just an empty living

shell – a hollowed out mind

all that left behind

a bird, a bird: a lovely

one so I have heard rested

gently upon an autumn

tree

and tho' I

look to change

the shape -

in that moment

I equate a gentle

little bird to all

that serendipity

heard

[my future just begun

with all the gold I spun]

What can I say – just let it go?

Just let it flow? It's hardly

ever wise tho' to always ever

show, everything I know and

so in autumn I did sow

the depths of despair: lets

just go out and appreciate

fresh air! And in the shadow

of a change, my life about to

rearrange I knew that in my

heart, I had reached the very

start of a brand new way to

depart and hark !, the herald

angels sing the beauty of most

everything – and I would not

presume to entice again my

very loom of all I hope to

receive and how my energies

weave what gives such great

reprieve, and so gladly I

receive a brand new life

with which to cleave the joy

of my terrain: I welcome cold

fresh air again – always

different and yet the very

same : 'brand new living game'

and I took a moment as

preamble but it pierced

my very ramble: you can now

be still for I wish you joy

and never ill

And back to front, a memory

dunk washed in the

breath of time: welcome

once more to your depths of

prime – the impossible

sublime (impossible to

define) and left for a

moment, it all seemed to

rhyme with every part of

time – so what is to define

when all is like a chime

a pitch perfect sound

from the depths of ground

reverberates in you: the

living welcome and from

the depths of graves, such

memories to saves create

gigantic waves: we crashed

upon your shore – an actor

cannot ignore what it is

we're waiting for – your

performance live will be

a busy hive and in and out

you dive and here and there

you give and above it all,

you really start to live and

all you thought before

was an open door and so

you ignore what has swept

the floor: tabula rasa sea

the very depths are me

the hunger at the door -

the screech to just

ignore and the quiet

pin: you're in it now to

win and explosive is your

hour – all that pent-up

power – released now on a

stage – the power and the

age: a living walking

wage and a tangible sage

for when you next appear -

actor magnificent will

be your year and winter's

now campaigning: "Get on

with all your training -

so much more to do -

embrace your life with every

clue" and in the colours

blue, I knew now I knew -

it had all come true what

I thought and knew was a

matter of reflection – an

inward outward perception

transparent waterfall

became a mirror after

all and the depths of

ache within your lake

are sullied here and

there by those that do not

care, but you are gathering

wing – you reflect my

everything

viable perception – on my

feet and in correction, I

adjust my pose – grounded

now the shows – firm the

energy goes and lifted

off my toes see how my

performance grows – I'm

running for my life – I'm

singing with my heart – I

am blind to fortune for

I make a humble start

and my memory is a

long gone enemy for all

that I now do is let

the water stream right

through – inspired it

transpired, I was totally

wired and in my early

starts, I almost broke

some hearts, but in my

later days, I am the

light that sways, and

now at maturity, I am

the graceful elegance you

always ever see (the magnificent sea):

for I am true simplicity -

electric publicity – what

I see and what I do,

speaks with just one

clue – you are water

flowing through in the

depths of what you

knew

I chose no longer to grow old

I ventured neither rash nor

bold and simply drew

stone cold what it was

that I was told and there

a story now enfold of all

we have and all we hold

and in the very fold of the

written page, I no longer

saw what I wished to

wage or bet for now it

was all set – hardened

in the midst, no more could

I fathom this, and so I

went away to learn to

work and play with fresh

light array – it felt so

very old – no more had I

then told than in a fresh

campaign to see the earth

renew again and in a

winter bunker and on an

icy day I stopped

wondering what next I

could now say – I no

longer knew anyway

what it was I wished

to pray and so I said

most timidly "Please

give me the courage to see

what's right in front of me."

[epiphany your quarters

are rapidly flowing waters]

a twinkling of light -

was I the glass insight ?

I no longer knew where the

wind blew

[quality control – lets you

see the matter whole]

I could no

longer know where the

wind would blow

[a ripped and torn affair -

to speculate in thinnest air]

all activity

ceased for me and no one

could guess or see what next

I would be until the ground

was free to open up to me

the wind howled in despair :

I want to see you there but

I had simply vanished into

thin clear air, and I left it

there

And...

And when it feels so very

quiet, it gets to be a

riot: an endless interaction

a constant job satisfaction,

so that piling through are

finished products just

for you – and then there's

real delight, the end of

dark in colours bright

but for now, you see nothing

there at all – nothing there

for me – no sense of busy

bee – and the wind

howled so free "why won't

you even look at me -

we had such fun in

autumn days but now

you've vanished in a haze"

In a haze and in a blaze

of activity, you hardly

recognise what you next

will see, but 'leave it

up to me' said a very

busy bee "for I am moving

forward quite famously

and all that nonsense

stuff when you talked

so very rough will soon

mull to lull for I'm in

my final cull and

removing all my wool, I'm

now weaving a treat that

will surprise you and

energise your fleet – so

what is your feat and

what is your campaign ?

It is simply to embrace

patience all over again,

and no matter who might

now complain – it's ample

and it's plain – I know my

own true game and make

it all the same, to fresh

and grand terrain and

no more for me, to

speculate endlessly,

I'm already on the

move – notching up each

little groove – getting

bigger nice and smooth

I have such big ideas and

now it clear appears -

a passage safe and true

is what I offer you, and

now I start to see what

once I thought to be, can

happen naturally – I've

given over all campaigning

there's no use of endless

explaining: I'm just getting

it done, what makes my

life so much fun and as

I build and become – the

simple other one, I have

no need to fear of what

will next appear for

proficient in my ways,

I am the light that

strays into bright arrays

heat seeker, energy

beaker – life keeper -

storing now my gruel: I

keep warm in winter

fuel for I know that

I shall see what is best

(for you?) and me and

that's all you'll ever

see: I'm working hard for

me, and as for you, I've

no clue of what you wish

or thought to do but

self-proficiency is sufficiency

I know so well, and I can

tell how I move and

break my spell of living

in-between all that has

been, and building quickly

as I do – can you now

guess my final clue? ! !

build my future bold with

the work that I have sold.

And when you think it's all

grown cold then you'll

see it's all told and

accounted for: I've managed

my full score – a proficiency

that cannot ignore -

a professional on her

dance floor – so steady

in your winter and steady

as you go, you'll almost

reach the height of

what you need to know to

enter into brand new

flow . . . and as I start

to see, winter moves

so quickly and thundering

in terrain "Come on

move again – ignited

by the fire of your own

fervent desire -

unquenchable is the

day, the new began to

sway -

creaky bones, I left your

tones and now in front of

me, a gathering energy -

you thought you'd lost what

you once counted as great

cost, but that was former

training and now the new

is campaigning "let the

wind howl so free, as

we move to ecstasy, we

start so real slow to

help you follow as we

go an unfamiliar route,

a different type of shoot"

and out then came my

lute and with it came

my lyre and I made a

pyre of all my previous

desire – the nature of

the bold in winter's icy

cold is to warm by

a fire that gives off

real heat rather than

just reminiscing... of what it is

you're now just

missing... for where the

steam is hissing, the fire's

real hot to warm up any

pot – such folksy memory

is the total enemy

and feels so very quaint

but without heat, life

is faint and to extinction

prone, if you grow no

bone – so viability is self-

sufficiency that happens

continuously, but when

the stale receives no ale

(listen now – how do they wail !!!)

it's time to have a look,

and a brand new feather pluck -

tickle your senses (real) and mend

your fences – be in charge

and in control: it's a matter of

your own true soul

and there the matter

whole (no need to

break on another's toll)

and so I bow

away – nothing left to

do or say in what you

wish or pray – when

brass tacks come into

play – with so much

material, it's rather

quite ethereal of

what you seek to do

when you've not got a

real clue of what's

about to hit you – so

lay aside your supposition

and getting working on your

cognition – look around

your room : you've strung

a vibrant loom so get

weaving pretty soon

(and harbour your own

moon)

The orbits of our lives and

what we wish and how it

thrives, spins like purest

gold with the magic

that we hold right

between our thumbs

and fingers, for there

the magic lingers: in

our busy hands, we

create the very sands

and platonic is

teutonic meta-phonic

-

wisdom ploughing

through: everything

we do is where we get

our clue and heightened

in the cold sharp air,

a sense that I was

almost there for every-

where I saw what had

been an open door was

a stretched-out hand

"engage with me to

understand, the world

is your command"

and an oyster is a way

to grit a pearl today

so wherever I now

start materials raw and

bare, it is the energy I

share that helps get me

there

arise oh craftsman from

your loom – you've worked

so hard from dusk

through gloom to morning

break so pretty soon, you'll

capture your brand new

moon.

A brand new moon – the

faintest tune it's in my

sketch and on my broom

as I sweep away the

make-believe of

yesterday, the magic of

my eye laughed at that

with a hearty sigh

"it's so funny I could

cry for joy: the magic

I employ is scarce a

little toy – it is simple

craftsman power to

continue by the hour

to shape and frame

again a brand new

terrain" - so when you

think it's plain and

boring (are you now

already snoring ?! )

you are simply

ignoring the joy that

comes within when

craftsmanship takes

(heart and) wing and there a

rhythm sing a simple

weaver's hymn

"I glory every day

in the light at play

that helps me work

my way and generate

what now will stay

for many rich a

year" - see craftsman-

ship is a sacred

sphere of proffered

life held dear in

integrity bright and

clear to draw a

richer way to see

the world at play

and visual analysis

can feel like

paralysis and visual

analytics has its

fair share of critics,

but as for me, you'll

get to see, I move

so free in constancy

to deliver and

revere the craftsman

humming sphere and

in my workshop of

design, I simply

lose track of time

beholden to the

divine : I drink

deep of summertime

[an actor's epitaph – a Covent Garden

past – at last at last at last

I find my own true path]

and written there

I thought I knew

what it all was coming

to:

"for him the seasons roll in vain...

oh I hear it clear – I hear it plain - it

had reared for me now once again:

that it is summertime within this

heart of mine, and however I divine

I've lived my life to its full prime

so

eternal summertime :

I'm ready now to dine !

icy icy breath,

I am my own sweet tenderness

I am my own bright sun

I am all seasons now become

a lucky throw of dice

for I melt

every ice

and then...

a crack, and then a splinter,

and in the depth of winter,

the sun had shone right

through

and running water

left a clue

(to warm up ice is all you do

and all you ever ask me to)

Light Time Continuous Breath Line

Condensed light

my own insight

breath in flight

Fluffy shows

and desperate

grows

what takes

flight

before my

nose

the

wish

it

grows

and

yet

still

grows

the

air

beneath

my

very

toes

lifted from the

ground

it is

breath

all around

and

what

I huff

and

puff

is

so

much

more

simply

stuff

so

whatever

my

guff

the

wind

in

the

air

and

the

billowing

sphere

is

what

makes

new

life

appear

breathing

as

I

go

just

a

part

of

flow

that

takes

over

all

the

time

I

designated

mine

wind

of

change

it

is

me

you

rearrange

Where you are the wishing star

here you are the wishing star

And all at once with who you are

I arise now as a star

glittering brightly from

afar

the life that lived

and burnt so brightly

you can now see

weekly nightly

shining now

so very spritely

and in the glow

so very lightly

all is brightly

lit when

I take my walking

kit

and run with it

and be so fit

just to hit

the outer edge

see how

infinity

wedge

far and few

between

the golden

summer's

great 'has-

been'

for once I

was alive

to what now

thrive independently

and I hardly

get to

see

what's now really

in it for

me

for cast upon an

ebony

shore

I am twinkling

ever more

inviting

you back

in

all of life

now to begin

all of heart

to win

wishing on a

star

the glory of the

nature

the place of where

you are

What was before

what

was

before

is

no

more

all

released

all

at

peace

this

and

that

stroked

a

cat

rest

at

ease

in the

breeze

What do you wish to say (enough for today)?

What do you wish to say

that's enough just for today

and in the morning

what will you see

when you decide

to reach me

What could you really do

that hadn't happened

when we knew

that life just

keeps

sailing

through

What are the final words

what was it that you told

the birds in herds of

anguished soul

that vibrates

a singing bowl

of what

you knew

so well

when the

seasons'

weakness

only you could

tell

shhhh

(we are under a transitory spell)

and Plato maybe knew

what I'm going through

but really when I see

we're both laughing at me

aren't we?

Just when we know

how the cold wind blow

hidden in the snow

the sparkle and the

magic

have

a time

to grow

to what

we wish

to know

and twinkle

Christmas

treat

your life

already

on its feet

and in springtime

can bleat

a brand new

season's

energy

leap

I thought to give you

winter cheer

anyway, it feels like it's a leap

year... just

an extra day

to just do

what occurred

beneath the blue

velvet memory

a tortured tree

(had no place for me)

a shiver and a shake

did you just make

it up

did you just try to pluck

the feathers from

a goose

oh now your imagination

is just a little

loose

and what would you see

if you happened to be ...

me (and life moves

on so swiftly)

I'm panting right ahead

squeezing every ounce

what does it matter

with all the former

flounce

the dust carts

of my mind

flew in a wind

so blind

to fury

of the past

I knew it could not last

(I've hit my rust at last)

and broken down

it's true

the useless that

I knew

turns

around

anew

the heat comes from the chimney flue

expressions now you see

rush about so vibrantly

so whatever you now

do …

(does it still matter to you?)

and in the heated glow

the freshness that I know

gives a kindly warmth

and lets me gently

say

we've probably had

enough for today

(hooray !)

What came before no longer matters anymore

What

came

before

no

longer

matters

A year

of

magical

thinking

I had

no

inkling

what

grief

could

teach

the

biggest

thing

about

love is

to

release

it

now you've

seen all

the pain

and all

the glory

of our each

and every

story

I was just

a porter kindly

drawn by water's

daughter

now see all her

other porters and watch

the gentle

slaughter

of

all

you

once

held

so dear

as you

fear

for you

are

coppered

gold

and

all earth's

treasure

hold

now

that

all

is

turned

to

water

jingle

jangle

soul

tree

follow

me

follow

me

the

cup

got

over-

turned

-

watch

it

churn

-

see

and

learn

for

all

the

beauty

that

you

behold

there

is

more

more

I'm

told

unfold

some

is

big

and

some

is

bold

watch

it

all

all

unfold

what

you

know

and

in

your

home

all

alone

see

it

there

in

the

air

for

all

and

all

is

coppered

gold

so

listen

now

as

you

will

go

and

all

that

you

know

and

love

is

there

to

share

for

all

to

see

in

the

you

and

in

the

me

jingle

jangle

soul

tree

all

a

tangle

until

you

hear

what

is

near

and

oh

so

clear

in

the

breeze

and

in

the

rustle

of

the

leaves

you

can

simply

rest

at

ease

go

in

peace

and

see

the

moon

up

in

the

sky

and

fly

so

high

fly

so

high

until

you

find

a

place

to

die

from

all

you

thought

what

was

worth

for

you

followed

inky

trail

nice

and

slowly

like

a

snail

all

is

worth

shattered

earth

in

the

earth

find

your

dearth

and

be

born

anew

again

to

hear

the

rain

has

washed

away

all

you

held

so

very

dear

and

now

you

see

oh

so

clear

earth

to

dearth

find

new

worth

second

birth

and

then

see

with

brand

new

eyes

all

is

all

life's

greatest

surprise