"Falling Leaves of Wisdom" By Elexer Lyra

Falling Leaves of Wisdom

By Elexer Lyra

Leaves shine my soul

into a spotlight of wanderlust.

Their warmth contrasts the

wind giving them their voices-

full of crackling.

Invisible eyes have seen the

best and worst of this world.

As they fall they bring their wisdom

to us that everything ends

and everything returns to the Earth.

The body will one day sprout flowers.

"Adorable Strength" By Elexer Lyra

Adorable Strength

By Elexer Lyra

The light-hearted fever

of creating

adorable creatures of happiness

keeps the tealights

within my mind lit,   

to heat up my steam engine

Core.

“Keep moving forward”,

the pen speaks in

defiance as I hesitate

to change my approach.

Adorable does not

cheat the soul,

but builds it

as the chest expands

and heart conquers.

It is like the mistakes made

and learned from.

They pull me forward

with, hopefully, a cane

and not rope,

to bring me back to

my internal chalkboard.

Coloring my utensils pink

and lavender

I see new shapes

of futures not yet tested

under fear- which must be

overtaken.

Coral Dust

Coral Dust

By Elexer

Chilling brush of wind

Rips my buds

From within

And builds them into mountains

Of sparkling,

Coral dust.

Filling me with fruitful

Awakenings

Of tea complete in youthful

Gatherings.

Delicate powder

Wrapped tightly

To bring power

In nightly

Slumber.

Sugar and Rainbows

Sugar and Rainbows

By Elexer

Sparkling white sugar 

brushes my face 

and makes the air smell sweet,

like honeydew melon. 

Rolling in the bleached flour 

of not yet baked bread,

I see a rainbow

of dancing clouds

smiling.

As they sing

and waltz across the skyline

I follow their steps

in my missing boots

and the fluffy coat 

my mom

always made me where

 on cold winter days.

The child within me smiles

with the clouds

as the adult warns about the time wasted

creating daydreams.

Visions of Stillness

Visions of Stillness

By Elissa Rosenthal

Purple silk brushes my face
like fingertips.
Hovering over my eyes
the intertwined cells 
grasp one-another
with their warm embraces.  
Scents of floral perfumes
engross me
and float my subconscious mind
to a habitation 
of spectacular honey.
Let me nest 
with this passion
in these visions 
of stillness.  

Cries of the Stars by Elissa Rosenthal

 Cries of the Stars

By Elissa Rosenthal 

Delicate vibrations within sound-waves
carry me throughout the stars.
I touch their whispering,
golden, and lingering
wishes for their sisters 
and brothers,
as they grasp within the ether. 
Their firing furnace hearts beat for knowing whether 
they're family will ever
be together,
once more, in the spaces
of times
and trials.  
Miles
and thousands of years 
apart,
they are greeted with only the sound of their heart.  

Glowing Hope

Glowing Hope

By Elissa Rosenthal 

 

Glowing radiant hope,

touched my fingers with a tingle of electricity.

My heart bounded like a hamster,

wishing their wheel was an escape route.

"What is this?", I whispered in the darkness, and looked upon the orb.

I could still hear the drip coming from the broken pipe, from which I would drink.

The bruised apple with a piece eaten still laid next to the pile of abandoned misfit pieces I used as a bed.

The light was new.

To the world and I,

this light was new.

My mouth expressed a gasp,

as I saw that the light was coming from me.

Let Us Not Stay Quiet

Let Us Not Stay Quiet

By: Elissa Rosenthal

 

Let us not stay quiet,

and keep each other up.

Let us be passionate,

when our passion for others is gone.

Let us not stay quiet,

about our current love.

Let us chase away the naysayers,

with our hugs.

Let us kiss in public,

like other couples do.

Let us ignore the glances,

that burn into our souls. 

Stillness

Stillness

By Elissa Rosenthal 

 

Sit upon the grass and flowers,

breathing in their soft essences.

Stillness comes and flows around,

as it simultaneously goes elsewhere.

Silently, let thoughts pass by,

wish you knew where you are in life.

Strongly hold onto the will,

that this in not the best you can do.

Slipping into the dark abyss of no improvement,

is scarier than death at this point.

Sway back and forth,

to clear these thoughts from your mind.

Shake them from their foundations,

so they do not grow roots to pull you down.

Stay in this stillness,

this calm,

your time will come around.

Merry Meet

Merry Meet 

By Elissa Rosenthal

Come with me to tea today,

so we can merry meet.

Tell our thoughts and stories,

over what we eat.

Sing songs and silly tales,

over our quiet meal.

Let time of smiling friends,

be here for none to steal.

We not agree on all,

past-times and things.

However, we can agree,

to give this friendship wings.

The People's Mirror

 The People's Mirror 

By Elissa Rosenthal

Awing midnight surrounds my small being. 

Universal twinkles comfort my eyes.

Sluggish waters become all people's mirror;

including Luna sharing her glimmer. 

Peer into the All People's Mirror,

perhaps it will show your beauty as clear.

  

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Money Maker

Money Maker

By Elissa Rosenthal

Money please,

My dear friend,

I will drain you,

Till the end.

Lick up my lies,

Of solitary waste,

Let you feel alone,

A waste of space.

Pick up my money,

My money maker of wishes,

Hopes to have food,

Hopes to have dishes.

Feel the fear of loss,

Truth has a clear ring,

My money clogs your vision,

To feel its poison sting.

Pick up my money,

Drop all your hope,

Hold my money in your hands,

While you go on and gloat.

To: Chester Bennington

To: Chester Bennington 

By Elissa Rosenthal

When I was hidden within my own darkness,

you pulled me out.

I am sorry someone could not do the same for you.

When I was weak,

you helped me gain strength. 

I am sorry you found strength in a rope.

I hope you have found the peace you wished to find.

I am sorry it had to be this way.

I loved and still love your music,

though it is the older stuff.

Though it does not mean much,

possibly just some fluff.

You will be missed Chester,

you will be.

That so much is true.

I am sorry you found strength in a rope.

I am sorry I never got to see you.

From an old fan.

Love

Love

By Elissa Rosenthal

Stillness is lead by scared little whispers,

Wishing for the breath to hold their caring.

Carefully treading through the thoughts of love,

Life at their fingertips still unknowing.

Unimportance claims the thoughts of the weak, 

Crystallizing their fears of being one.

Old thoughts of harsh reality floods mind,

Keep the whispers safe and keep whispers kind.

Love of ones' self creates love is ones' mind.

Emotions

Emotions

By: Elissa Rosenthal

Fiery fills all I know and all I am.

Harsh words fill my mind with deep night regrets.

Feel my passion, 

hate, 

and fear,

 through my words.

Feel my passion 

want,

and fear,

through my actions.

I scream among the stars as my eyes close in fitful slumber.

I weep in my dreams,

remembering the harsh memories of the day.

Two minds,

two different expressions of emotion.

I tell you I hate you for the same reasons I hate myself.

I give the actions I wish someone would do for me.

Read between the lines.

Think through the actions,

and the speech.

We are human.

Emotions were taught to be in the background,

silenced,

twisted,

stretched.

Do not weep but yell.

Do not yell but weep.

Childhood emotional training nonexistent.

Why do people not see?

I yell because that was the only way they would listen.

I cry because then they would hear.

Simple explanations never taught.

Understanding never understood. 

Feel my passion,

hate, 

and fear,

through my words.

I beg.

Feel my passion,

want,

and fear,

through my actions.

I pray.

Peanut Head

By Elissa Rosenthal

Hello, Everyone! This week is the start of hopefully a bit of a busy future for me so, I did something a little simple for this week's post. I will still be doing projects that take longer to make, however, depending on how detailed they are, they may take a few weeks to complete and show you guys. So look forward to more detailed projects in the future, once in a while, and little characters and other creations in the meantime. 

I love you all and thank you for staying with my blog!

For this week, we have a character I will like to call Peanut Head. This character I did with a very quick exercise where you need to come up with a character sketch in thirty minutes or less. 

 I imagine he is a very enthusiastic character with confidence that everyone envies, even a little bit. Peanut Head puts on odd and brightly colored clothing, makes over dramatic expressions of affection, and wears huge sunglasses to stand out the way he wants to, to draw fellow beings away from his head. The reason he is so self-conscious has nothing to do with his lack of hair, but the shape of his head. When he was younger, it was the main subject for unoriginal bullies of his to tease him. This is why now, whenever his head shape is brought up, he makes it a joke for everyone so others cannot make a joke about it first.

Peanut Head

By Elissa Rosenthal 

My head you understand, so shapely mine,

Came into contact with a ball of twine.

Brown, scratchy, string wrapped around my large head,

The small prickly began to embed.

"Why? Please no!", I cried, "Why do you embed?"

"Because,...", said The Twine, "I want your large head.

I want it to be a peanut instead."

It hurt quite a bit, with a short, slight tug,

Now I look cuter than a little pug.

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New Moon Meditation

By Elissa Rosenthal

Hello Everyone! This week I based my art around the new moon, which occurred on the 25th. I have always enjoyed the different moon cycles, and with being pagan, I base some of my spiritual practices around them. 

I originally tried doing a drawing of a gal looking down while the full moon was behind her, but that one did not turn out so well. The reason was mostly because I started coloring it in with colored pencils, and did them too hard too quickly. So, the sketch quickly started turning into a pile of blue pigment, so I stopped coloring it in, so I would still have a reference to go from if I want to do the idea again. 

For this sketch I really wanted to still go with the same theme however, so instead of doing a moon behind her I did a mandala with the phases of the moon within the mandala. Plus, instead of coloring in the image with colored pencil, I went with a pen outline. I may in the future copy the image and color it in, but for now this is what it looks like. 

I imagine that she is a girl named Neila, who is meditating during the night, calming herself before needing to go to sleep. She normally sees the moon outside of her window, casting a glow within the room, and chasing away the shadows. This is why on the nights of the new moon she becomes scared and tense, in need of some relief. So she sits and reminds herself how the moon is still there and will appear again soon.  

New Moon Meditation Poem

By Elissa Rosenthal

Absent, distant, dark beauty from a far,

Hidden, concealed, from your love, the star.

The sky is dark, only small specks of dust,

Of far away planets, we now entrust.

Meditating, thoughts grow dark and weary,

Luna, love, light the sky, make us merry.

We all miss your beauty, your love, your light,

Please, give us all hope you will be alright.

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Ultramarine: A Poem Inspired By Watercolor Landscape

By Elissa Rosenthal

Hello Everyone! This week I started to delve deeper into watercolor, having now bought proper watercolor paper. The difference I have found is great in the lack of the paper buckling and creating pools where the color wanted to go. Now the surface is much more even when I paint, making it easier to distribute the color.

Anyway, since the character and poem was so popular last week, in comparison to my other kinds of posts on average, I have decided to provide you with another poem. This one is inspired by the landscape painting I did below. I was practicing on painting with no prior planning, just letting the paint tell me what to do with it. 

Ultramarine 

By Elissa Rosenthal

Crisp oxygen filtered through new pollen.

Thundering movement kisses the mountain.

Storming pools welcome you to sit and wait,

To be pulled from safety to waterfall.

They may call you to seal your own fate,

I beg of you to not answer the call.

I have seen too many who follow death.

Think they own this place and are not a guest.

The pools may look safe to those who not know,

How ultramarine whispers pull you in.

Current may seem stagnant and slow,

They will prove to you how lazy you swim. 

Feel free to leave a comment in the comment section below! Let us have a conversation!

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Mire The Zucchini

By Elissa Rosenthal

Hello, Everyone! I hope you all are having a good day. For a little while now I have been thinking about doing characters with background stories, and possibly a few comics on here. Please let me know in the comments if you have any thoughts about this idea.

The reason for this idea is because I realized, when I was doing the post last week, I quite enjoyed writing about the character I created. I found it exciting and fun to show you guys, gals, and everything in-between, my voice for story telling. Most of what I have shown on here has been my informative writing, not so much story telling, so, I am thinking of diving a bit deeper into that way of writing.

Now, do not fret if you like the tips and tricks I give sometimes, those I am sure will still be there. Along with telling you short background stories of my characters, and who knows, if  I or others like them enough, I may make full stories or poems.

To start off, let me introduce you to this little guy, I found in my minds' eye while looking at some plants on my window sill. I decided to draw him in a style in-between modified contour and continuous contour after doing some sketching of him. The ground I decided to not do in full detail because I thought it would become a bit messy, particularly since I have not practiced contour drawing recently.

This little guys' name is Mire. His body is made from roots that spindle and curl around each other, and taper off at the ends. Upon his head is the same type of baby plant around him, since he originated from one of the seeds. He is a caregiver for these zucchini, making sure they look and feel dry when they need water, and helping to guide their leaves to the light source.

Mire will have a longer life than some of his relatives, for example those who take care of carrots, if the humans who feed off his plants take good care of them. For his kind only last until the last plant under their care is consumed or ripped up. But do not fret, more of his kind will come, as long as the cycle of life and death provides.

Nothing in this world is permanent, as his kind know. They live everyday understanding that their roots can be ripped up and their leaves shredded at any given time. They bathe in the sun, soaking up its energy and warmth, happy to be alive at all, sending out whispers to passersby containing wondrous words of wisdom about impermanence.


Poem of Mire
By Elissa Rosenthal

Take care of those you wish to keep and hold,
For the future can be not warm but cold.

Let your eyes gaze up towards the warm sun rays,
Maybe your eyes will burn while laughter plays.

Look back down upon my barren dry roots,
If you do water them there will be fruit.

Take care of those you wish to keep and hold,
For the future can be not warm but cold.

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Creating Sketches From Dreams

By Elissa Rosenthal

Hello, Everyone! This week was interesting, yet not as productive as I wished it to be. As far, as art goes, the only things I have created this week have been the image you can view on my Twitter @TheElissaPost , and Instagram: theelissapost ,as well as the one below.

Maybe it is because I have been trying to work on a book I have been wanting to write for quite a while, or because I did not have much inspiration until last night.

What most of you do not know, is when I have dreams they are, more often than not, realistically vivid and strange, even in the realm of dreams. The sketch above is of one of the characters that was in my dream. She was all a periwinkle blue, with a flower bud as the top of her head, going down to a razor sharp jawline. Her face looked beautiful and withheld danger in her onyx eyes. She whispered in my ear that I have forgotten about her, and then, she nearly slashed at my face with her long blade-like figures. Only because she wanted me to remember her, not for her harming me, but for her dangerous beauty.

It was quite an interesting dream filled with other characters, just as vivid as the periwinkle fairy. I may draw more of them, if my mind allows me to remember those parts of the dream.

Have you ever used dreams for inspiration?

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