the island’s shape’s constantly shifting

boy with a bird cage.. finally managed to paint him...

boy with a bird cage.. finally managed to paint him…


wind on the islands’s different—
i dunno where to start

a city’s lung
its smoke and grit
the birdcage boy with sad eyes
something in me,

forgotten beach,
my hair in thousand knots
i’ll fly, then board a train– so easy
rent a bike

he’s carried in a storm,
an image of an image in a dream
&i get lost
between x’s
of unsovled equations
in the streets

fata morgana’s are not only born from heat
they’re daughters of the wind,
shift/ed sand
trying to find a/way into the eyes, ears, nose

&pile to castles where rapunzel, dwarves&knights
i ever met live happily as flat mates,
playing chess

on sunday evenings
the wind dictates the game
shaking pawns&queen

“it might be freezing cold” a colleague says
“&it could rain all day”

it could be everything
i think

&let him have his way
biting my ears with ice-cold lips

“i’m unpredictable” he whisp/ers
tender in a way&yet uprooting trees
within me

he’s blind in many ways
sees more

the movement of his lips
whips sand against my skin

with puffed up cheeks
he licks my feet
then throws himself
back out//

into the ocean


for dVerse where Grace’s yet unnamed guesthost 😉 has us write wind…


37 responses to “the island’s shape’s constantly shifting

  1. I love how looking at that boy with a cage sparks the beach scene and it’s wind/wave maleness, who believes he’s unpredictible–who can be unpredictible just when we become used to the everyday. I wonder now about the boy and his hidden “urban fantasy” life. The painting itself is windswept.

  2. when I lived in florida, time was different…and even the wind….we used to call it florida time….like island time…which is where you opening line took me…the wind tastes different though….not the smokers cough of the city….I like how the boy impacted you though and it is carrying over…uprooting trees within me is a cool way of saying it…

  3. Interesting story about the birdcage boy with sad eyes. Glad you were able to paint him and write him into a poem. And it seems he touched you on a deeper level as well…taking you back into experiences and memories!

  4. Love the painting, smiles ~ I admire how you caught the boy with sad eyes~

    And brushstrokes of fairy tales- castles, dwarves&Knights –

    “i’m unpredictable” he whisp/ers
    tender in a way&yet uprooting trees
    within me

    Thanks for playing along Claudia ~

  5. I like how your painting is inspiring poetry and vice versa. Tha painting is lovely – like “an image of an image in a dream”. The wind personified is proud to have this poem as a dedication to him. Beautiful writing Claudia.

  6. Oh I have missed more on that boy with the birdcage… how you weave him into your tale is so intriguing…

    “an image of an image in a dream” reminds me of Poe and the dream within a dream.. would there be a raven in the bird-cage?

  7. A great capture indeed that took seed. The wind can sure take one to different spots depending on where they are. Hope the feet got washed though lol

  8. Claudia, such a beautiful capture of the winds moods – and fascinated that the boy with the birdcage has captured you somehow.
    I love the lines
    “i’m unpredictable” he whisp/ers
    tender in a way&yet uprooting trees
    within me’

  9. I am glad that not only were you able to paint the boy with the birdcage, but how you brought him into this second poem. The wind at the beach is different but what I think of with this poem is how the winds blow in the Badlands of SD….carving shaping painting, unpredictable yet soft sometimes and others, uprooting, shifting rocks….lovely!

  10. Some of my favorite lines: “my hair in thousand knots” and “he’s carried in a storm,
    an image of an image in a dream.” And I like your painting, too. Peace, Linda

  11. Feels like the sand dunes of Sylt or other islands in the North Sea – immense flatness, shifting sands, wind blowing at high speed… you too went for the lover analogy. Interesting! For me the wind is always annoying, never wanted.

  12. “Windswept” could be another title for both the painting & the poem; your POV seems to shift wonderfully, as can be your style; always love the ride. I liked the lines /a city’s lung/its smoke & grit/ & the lines /&i get lost/between x’s/of unsolved
    equations/in the streets/. A very strong verse, that rocks the wind every which way.

  13. And my non-existent hair is being blown from left to right and back to left! 🙂 Loved your poem. You could say I have been windswept by it. 🙂 Thanks.

    Greetings from London.

  14. “i’m unpredictable” he whisp/ers
    tender in a way&yet uprooting trees
    within me…love this and the painting. The boy with the sad eyes made me think of a boy I saw today 😦

  15. I just love this painting… both the painted version and the word version. 🙂

    the birdcage boy with sad eyes… that’s an image that will stay with me.

  16. Playful wind…loved ‘ uprooting trees
    within me’ . Painting and boy with a cage – really with sad eyes…colors thru sand…arches so mystical…let’s go to see them playing chess….I’m in…smiles

  17. My favorite part it says so much about life and the journey being unpredictable sometimes struggling to get grounded.

    “i’m unpredictable” he whisp/ers
    tender in a way&yet uprooting trees
    within me

  18. I have to share this “ooo-whee-ooo” moment with you: Just a day or so ago, your blog title came to mind (I wasn’t even ON the blogs, mind you–but walking to the store). I didn’t attach much significance, just a thought–and then today a reader suggested I participate “at the bar”; and boom, here we are, together again. Marvelous poetry, as always.

  19. Very cool, Claudia, the almost forlorn look of the boy is evident in the painting, and I admire how you bring out the fantasy with Rapunzel, et al. Ouch, biting your ear with ice-cold lips, the wind of course…

  20. You too managed to capture the fluctuation of wind 🙂
    I loved what you did with the unpredictable element.
    You paint a seeable picture in more ways than one. (I know there is no such word, but I think it needs to be one).

  21. I love the dreamlike quality about your work/art. I’m also charmed by your ampersands sitting so chummy next to words like they were best friends. Your forward slashes did more than slash; they renamed a word. Brilliant.

  22. I learned to love the constant wind here on the prairies, and the sound the wind makes when playing with the poplar trees … when I sit and listen with my eyes closed, it reminds me of my first love, the ocean.