A Stabbing Joy© Poetry Art by Launa Print
$45.00
This is a 11"X15" signed Art by Launa print. Look closely, this artwork is done completely from words. Every shadow and nuance is readable poetry written by the artist. This print is done on a gloss paper with full, vibrant color and the poetry is included with the print on a separate sheet of paper.
It reads as follows:
Stabbing Joy
A stabbing joy pierces my sides
As I run across overgrown fields of Milkweed
To catch one more translucent dragonfly
To complete my collection
My feet are bare
Baked brown from summer adventures
They feel as though they have invisible wings
Enabling me to soar over ant hills
And fly past cow dung and swarms of Bumble Bees
My heart, though pounding like a drum stretched taut
Is bold and brave and daring
I feel that I possess the earth and sky
I am so alive with stabbing joy
I would do anything to make these moments last
Forever
Trapped in the body of a fearsome boy
My infinite laughs and almighty giggles
Quake the clouds
And the corridors of time
Liquid yellow pours over my heard
Spills onto my shoulders
Giving them a much needed massage
This holy, blinding essence from the afternoon sun
Warms my face and makes me yawn
I have been told this freedom that I enjoy
Will never last, like ice cubes, it is fleeting
It cannot last
For soon, I will grow into a man
This cherished elation I feel is transcendent
Moving away, unseen
Like the shifting shadows that I step upon
I mustn't sleep, right now, I have to rouse myself
Rub the sand out of my eyes
I will not let my boyhood perish
Neither will I permit my spirit to lament its loss
I am not going to recite a eulogy to my youth
And though I do become a man some day
I intend to hold tightly to this boy
Somehow, I will trap him inside of me
In a private place, like my tree house
And I will peek at him on necessary occasions
After all, what else are memories for?
If not a free ticket to travel back to a place of pleasure
To a palace of ultimate peace
I will wrap my fingers around the virtue of playtime
And I will mess the hair of flippancy and practical jokes
Get lost in the annals of my vivid imagination
And I will squeeze my toes and make fresh mud pies
I imagine my grin will look foolish to those around me
Because I alone will know why I am wriggling my toes
Beneath my desk
©Launa
It reads as follows:
Stabbing Joy
A stabbing joy pierces my sides
As I run across overgrown fields of Milkweed
To catch one more translucent dragonfly
To complete my collection
My feet are bare
Baked brown from summer adventures
They feel as though they have invisible wings
Enabling me to soar over ant hills
And fly past cow dung and swarms of Bumble Bees
My heart, though pounding like a drum stretched taut
Is bold and brave and daring
I feel that I possess the earth and sky
I am so alive with stabbing joy
I would do anything to make these moments last
Forever
Trapped in the body of a fearsome boy
My infinite laughs and almighty giggles
Quake the clouds
And the corridors of time
Liquid yellow pours over my heard
Spills onto my shoulders
Giving them a much needed massage
This holy, blinding essence from the afternoon sun
Warms my face and makes me yawn
I have been told this freedom that I enjoy
Will never last, like ice cubes, it is fleeting
It cannot last
For soon, I will grow into a man
This cherished elation I feel is transcendent
Moving away, unseen
Like the shifting shadows that I step upon
I mustn't sleep, right now, I have to rouse myself
Rub the sand out of my eyes
I will not let my boyhood perish
Neither will I permit my spirit to lament its loss
I am not going to recite a eulogy to my youth
And though I do become a man some day
I intend to hold tightly to this boy
Somehow, I will trap him inside of me
In a private place, like my tree house
And I will peek at him on necessary occasions
After all, what else are memories for?
If not a free ticket to travel back to a place of pleasure
To a palace of ultimate peace
I will wrap my fingers around the virtue of playtime
And I will mess the hair of flippancy and practical jokes
Get lost in the annals of my vivid imagination
And I will squeeze my toes and make fresh mud pies
I imagine my grin will look foolish to those around me
Because I alone will know why I am wriggling my toes
Beneath my desk
©Launa
Quantity:
This is a 11"X15" signed Art by Launa print. Look closely, this artwork is done completely from words. Every shadow and nuance is readable poetry written by the artist. This print is done on a gloss paper with full, vibrant color and the poetry is included with the print on a separate sheet of paper.
It reads as follows:
Stabbing Joy
A stabbing joy pierces my sides
As I run across overgrown fields of Milkweed
To catch one more translucent dragonfly
To complete my collection
My feet are bare
Baked brown from summer adventures
They feel as though they have invisible wings
Enabling me to soar over ant hills
And fly past cow dung and swarms of Bumble Bees
My heart, though pounding like a drum stretched taut
Is bold and brave and daring
I feel that I possess the earth and sky
I am so alive with stabbing joy
I would do anything to make these moments last
Forever
Trapped in the body of a fearsome boy
My infinite laughs and almighty giggles
Quake the clouds
And the corridors of time
Liquid yellow pours over my heard
Spills onto my shoulders
Giving them a much needed massage
This holy, blinding essence from the afternoon sun
Warms my face and makes me yawn
I have been told this freedom that I enjoy
Will never last, like ice cubes, it is fleeting
It cannot last
For soon, I will grow into a man
This cherished elation I feel is transcendent
Moving away, unseen
Like the shifting shadows that I step upon
I mustn't sleep, right now, I have to rouse myself
Rub the sand out of my eyes
I will not let my boyhood perish
Neither will I permit my spirit to lament its loss
I am not going to recite a eulogy to my youth
And though I do become a man some day
I intend to hold tightly to this boy
Somehow, I will trap him inside of me
In a private place, like my tree house
And I will peek at him on necessary occasions
After all, what else are memories for?
If not a free ticket to travel back to a place of pleasure
To a palace of ultimate peace
I will wrap my fingers around the virtue of playtime
And I will mess the hair of flippancy and practical jokes
Get lost in the annals of my vivid imagination
And I will squeeze my toes and make fresh mud pies
I imagine my grin will look foolish to those around me
Because I alone will know why I am wriggling my toes
Beneath my desk
©Launa
It reads as follows:
Stabbing Joy
A stabbing joy pierces my sides
As I run across overgrown fields of Milkweed
To catch one more translucent dragonfly
To complete my collection
My feet are bare
Baked brown from summer adventures
They feel as though they have invisible wings
Enabling me to soar over ant hills
And fly past cow dung and swarms of Bumble Bees
My heart, though pounding like a drum stretched taut
Is bold and brave and daring
I feel that I possess the earth and sky
I am so alive with stabbing joy
I would do anything to make these moments last
Forever
Trapped in the body of a fearsome boy
My infinite laughs and almighty giggles
Quake the clouds
And the corridors of time
Liquid yellow pours over my heard
Spills onto my shoulders
Giving them a much needed massage
This holy, blinding essence from the afternoon sun
Warms my face and makes me yawn
I have been told this freedom that I enjoy
Will never last, like ice cubes, it is fleeting
It cannot last
For soon, I will grow into a man
This cherished elation I feel is transcendent
Moving away, unseen
Like the shifting shadows that I step upon
I mustn't sleep, right now, I have to rouse myself
Rub the sand out of my eyes
I will not let my boyhood perish
Neither will I permit my spirit to lament its loss
I am not going to recite a eulogy to my youth
And though I do become a man some day
I intend to hold tightly to this boy
Somehow, I will trap him inside of me
In a private place, like my tree house
And I will peek at him on necessary occasions
After all, what else are memories for?
If not a free ticket to travel back to a place of pleasure
To a palace of ultimate peace
I will wrap my fingers around the virtue of playtime
And I will mess the hair of flippancy and practical jokes
Get lost in the annals of my vivid imagination
And I will squeeze my toes and make fresh mud pies
I imagine my grin will look foolish to those around me
Because I alone will know why I am wriggling my toes
Beneath my desk
©Launa