Monday, June 29, 2009

Traveling Children

Robert Miles - Children, Song was popular in Europe in mid 90's

Sunday, June 21, 2009

"There Are Children in the Grave Who Used to Laugh and Sing"

"Little Girl" 18x20 oil on canvas

Children are the saddest casualty of any war or conflict. If you listen you can hear them calling out.

"There Are Children in the Grave Who Used to Laugh and Sing"

There are children in the grave
who used to laugh
and sing
and go to school
like normal children do.
But now
there are children in the grave.
Patriotic songs ring out
for men play games of war
and power.

Hiding under the covers
alone time
trying not to hear their cries
that no longer make a sound
and yet
if you pause long enough
to hear.
Like the saddest symphony
a thousand instruments
objecting to the end

I listen for it still
as reluctantly as you
and wear those colors
keeping them tightly clutched
inside my hand.
Passers by
sometimes forget
that kind of emptiness
but we won't

Right to count the storms
yet oh
I wish this one
was over.
Take even steps
mark the time
number our falls
stand still in those permanent spaces
courage to speak out
against a young child's rival.

The intensions of the determined
crush against such memories
demanding muteness.
But oh
we should always hesitate
before moving on.
We don't need to see the wind
to understand the light around us
confessions come easiest
when impulsive.
we should always honor the voices
of those children
who never got a chance to sing
their songs
as loud as we could
if we chose to
before our life
was gone.

There are children in the grave
who used to laugh
and sing
and go to school
like normal children do.
But now
there are children
in the grave.

Copyright 2009
by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen

Sunday, June 14, 2009

"I Was Meant to Fly Higher Than My Imagination Sometimes Allows -Higher Than Any Fairy is 'Allowed'"

"For Isa" 18x24 oil on canvas

Soo... turn on the music/Utube if you haven't already.. It makes for nice ambiance for my poem below.

"I Was Meant to Fly Higher Than My Imagination Sometimes Allows -Higher Than Any Fairy is 'Allowed'"

She tried to imagine herself flying
but she couldn't
only fairies can fly that high.

Blending spirits in that moment...
It is an unmistakable journey
one that starts under the sea
greeted by discoveries
never imagined before.

Beams of light
from the diamonds off the water
for a rainbow to meet
and thus
a mermaid is greeted
by a magical dragons
undying sigh
to a greeting.
It is not impossible to sing
those magical

And if you did not know
how far a dream can measure
how far a longing
can go
let me tell you
it is
without a doubt
past the doubting heart.

Magic should never be measured
not it you want to save a heart.
Never try to bind a worry
of a latent measure
for newness to be met
beyond the thought of who we can be
or of who we are in fact

I can fly as high as I long to
and if you think high enough
my captain
my darling
my restless prince
can you.
Come close to where we are
its very close.

I want to reach that circumference
I trust
and feel the height of it
one bleeding intake
of my breath at a time.

There are circles that never end
and within that measure
we hold onto hope
waiting beyond contentment
beyond what is expected
and in that miracle
find not one single second
of rest.

Mercy should not take pity

And past today
let me feel every circumstance
and feel the ultimate
unharnessed in forever un-groomed.
Let me realize my own spark
holding out
forever holding out
past the night
beyond what is sighted here
beyond the prince

Let me climb that high
let me be the beam
of my own light
and never stop trying to absorb
every single beat.
Music coming
save me
save me
forever past these days
and their bountiful

Let the sky be higher
than I might ever imagine
let me at least
absorb its
reason for being
and my life
yet un-savory
but still testing.

Don't let me go
the fairy in me spoke
for I am in longing
and in this state of mind
hold out
never pass this moment.
Let me understand
my own wings.

by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen
Copyright 2008

Friday, June 12, 2009

"I Met a Mystic Along a Dusty Pathway - I Had Never Seen Such Magic"

We often judge ourselves harsher than needed. Sometimes the focus should be more on the beauty that is all around us. It is such a dear and simple thing to embrace magic.

"I Met a Mystic Along a Dusty Pathway - I Had Never Seen Such Magic"

There was a mystic
along the pathway
I saw him from a distance.
It became clear as I approached him
that I
was in the face of truth.

My eyes blurred
mixed with tears
for I had never seen magic
up close before.
I had never embraced the truth
in such pure form
as that afternoon
there on a simple dirt road.

I could not speak.
I could barely think really
it was a day that felt too bright
to look upon
and so
I did indeed
look away from him
as he began to pass me by.

He didn't pass me by though.
he stood directly in front of me.
I had nowhere to look
but up.
Up to see his eyes on mine.

Feelings of being found out
my plight
my woes
my insecurities
about a forever meaning
he seemed to spy them all.
I was
to me at least

What is it that causes us to spill all
when confronted with pure honesty?
Embracing it seemed past logic
it encompassed a certain instinct
one that reels in misgivings about grace.

My will was overpowered
not because I had been beaten into submission
not because proof had glared at me
causing me to succumb.
It was a holiness that filled the air
a rainbow on my skin
and a dance
that lead past the skyline.

What I expected from his eyes
seeing me
seeing through me
was a book of rules...
Now you do this
and no more of that.

But the Mystic
only gave me an empty pages
and said
Find your own way
and with every step you take
remember your place in this world
for it is just as holy
as the dawning of a recognition
a removed veil
that reveals the pureness of beauty itself.
Open your eyes
and see the light of creativity.
It has been present all the while
you simply lost your way
and stopped looking for it.
Open your eyes
for a host of elegance displayed.

I could not accept such generosity.
But what about the list
of things that are wrong with me
I don't see it within these pages.

There is no need to write that down
he calmly said
those things seem to burn within you
on their own
you already know your frailties.
Focus on the lovely things
know when others need your help
in seeing those things too.
Take of your shoes
if someone needs them
and you'll be fine.

I wanted to fall to the ground
kiss his feet
but in the very moment
that I accepted his words
he was...

I thought of Rumi then
of that quote I had rehearsed so many times:

"Today, like every other day, we wake up empty and frightened. Don't open the door to the study and begin reading. Take down a musical instrument.

Let the beauty we love be what we do. There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground." ~ Rumi

And there
along the roadside
I did kiss the ground.

by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen
copyright 2009

Sunday, June 07, 2009

Music for my Poetry

Free Coloring Page From Kathy-Happy Day All You Flower Fairies & Mermaid Fans

Double click image to enlarge, then print out.

You may feel free to download this to color or whatever else you like.. just NOT for "RESALE" This is a copyrighted 2009 image and may only be used for personal pleasure.

Happy day to you, Kathy

"Do Flower Fairies Die? And If They Do - Is There a Special Place For Them in Heaven?"

"Orchid" photo by Dennis G Magnusen Copyright 2009

Do you fret about fairies? Worry about them and what do they do all Winter long? Do they succumb to the coldness? Lastly most pitifully, does a flower faery die?

"Do Flower Fairies Die? And If They Do - Is There a Special Place For Them in Heaven?"

Do flower fairies die?
If so..
where do they go when they pass
from this life?
Is there a special place in heaven?
A gathering of natures gifts
that never falls asleep
a harvests destiny?

Or is it that a faery in your garden
never dies at all?
Is it possible that a pixie elf
rests in the Winter
till it's time
to come back out?

I believe it in this moment
that all faery princesses
do indeed
forever live.

Once you decide that a faerie lives
tis no longer a legend
or a mythological dream
its a matter of fact
a most beautiful

Embracing all the miracles
of each flowers gifts
touched by early morning dew
diamonds from the sky
shining brilliantly true
look on
What else is there to do?

Glorious beings
folklore told
magical creatures
cradle the gifts
of life
and all its miraculous

And despite all disbelievers
a flowers majesty
will always shine on
brilliantly true
for me
and yes
ever faithfully
for you

Dear flower nymphs
make it through
the Fall and Winter of life
considering their resilience
why not me
why not you?

Goddesses of rainbows praying
fore Springtime miracles
pick it up
respond to the earths glory
appreciate their seedlings
despite their struggle
a prayer set forth
Watching as Fall
covers Forget-Me- Nots up
as Winter sets each petal to rest
it is for a faery
an acceptable
Springtime brings it all on again
and the mornings refreshed
with Mother Nature's
and a whimsical angels song.

by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen
Copyright 2009

ABOUT Kathy Ostman-Magnusen: I am an artist, represented by Monkdogz Urban Art, New York. ORIGINAL ART may be purchased through Monkdogz:
FREE ART GIFTS 'suitable for children' plus prints, giclees, cards, available on my website:


Saturday, June 06, 2009

A Fairies Bloodletting- Did She Deserve it? Or is the Bloodletting Ceremony For You?

Looking to self.. where are we within any given picture? We all have insecurities. Perhaps YOU will see yourself in this story.

Such a fairy
such a sacrifice
a bloodletting
would be her demise?

She stood outside the doorway
looking in.
If she could have
she would have let those roses
to their pitiful death.
A bloodletting of an infant soul
heartaches till now
not fully disclosed.

Whimsical angel
drown out all those intrusions
scissors that cut away
well meaning
but distant
compared to other keyholes
villain moles.

Stairways usually lead to
Bandages usually cover wounds.
can drown in a drop of dew
if you aren't watching

Who sees?

Everyone gets lost
from their own selves
once in awhile
pieces of memories
come predictably.

exposing leaves on trees
most pitifully
dried out.

Slipping under the surface
of any painting you choose
it is there in the artists deliverance
she sees

So let me paint your portrait
will you?
Create a setting
past the rhythm of routine
now that we've exposed YOU
my caring queen
past the shroud
clarity set

Surprised of the turn

Aroused are you?

Past any fairy
you stumbled upon
there between your breaths
she and I

not yet through.

So stop and think
at this very second
reflect on WHO YOU

are you?
A bit exposed now?

YOU wonder
this is stupid
I thought this was a story about a fairy
this is NOT about ME.

You've been caught!
sorting out lost ambitions
stifling your soul
for neglected days
to come
waiting for them
to unfold.

are you?
That all of this is not about a fairy
at all..
it is not about her bloodletting
it is all about
It is indeed a trick
designed to pull

I saw your last night
wondered about your words
Yes.. you have been

And all I have to say to you
at this point is
lets gather all those pieces of what you left
that you have
in the back of your mind
been crying about.

Time to paint a new portrait
coming out.

by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen
copyright 2009