Saturday, September 07, 2013

The Well Used Heart

One small brush with a stranger, at the magic edge of idleness.
One little push at the top of the curve; there's no turning back.


Traveling the avenue of thought only to lose my answer.
Stains of intrigue stamped upon my passport.
Approaching the borders without dimension. 
Where is my country?
Only a heart full of emptiness can return home.




Shepherd's Farm Catawba Valley VA- 2012
 



This weeks words: pay, stains, center, bell, dimension, intrigue,magic, only, used, avenue, answer, change

23 comments:

  1. This reminds me of The Hans Herr Homestead. Only I didn't see any chairs like this one there. While there may have been a plainness to those who lived in simpler times... they were filled with emotions and imagination that we living in the modern era will never know.

    Hugs, Jules

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    1. Oh, Jules, I used to live in a house in Lancaster County that was only 5 years newer than the Hans Herr house!

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  2. Jules- I of course had to google Hans Herr Homestead. And the building this chair is in is not nearly as old nor as well built. But I have been told a family of 6 lived here in the 1940's. The echoes of their life linger within the walls. Thanks for stopping by <3

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  3. Two very powerful lines in this piece:

    "Stains of intrigue stamped on my passport."

    and

    "Only a heart full of emptiness can return home."

    These lines are the cement, holding the poem fiercely together.

    Six-Word Whirl

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    1. That means a lot coming from you. You capture an essence of my piece and mirrored it back to me perfectly, thank you.

      Teri

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  4. Oh, I just love the ending. Beautiful work, Teri.

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    1. Hey Brenda- bet you thought I was gone for good! Thank you for stopping by and for the wordle prompts.

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  5. So nice to see you, Teri. I love what you have done with the words. That photo is spectacular.

    Pamela

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    1. Hey Pam- The words were all written. As I finished this photo I took in 2012 came to mind. I am glad you like it. Nice to be back. Teri

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  6. Melancholy and beautiful. A heart full of emptiness returns to an empty house, dreams broken.
    Life is sometimes filled with too much sadness.

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    1. MLM- Thank you- I am learning to sit with emptiness and let the light in. Sadness evaporates for a time and my grateful heart is full again.

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  7. What a delight it was to read this with the word associations and the triggers of thought. Living in old houses always gives you a chance to talk to the previous owners and hold their hands as you hear their stories.

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    1. OE-I think you are right. You feel their strengths and their sorrows. You are never alone.

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  8. Home Sweet Home Teri beautiful powerful thoughts reflecting the essence of your travels, and the philosophy of life itself.A warm loving heart finds a home, a feeling less empty cold heart finds a house.The 'All Important Chair of Power' eventually stands empty'. Have missed you much.Hope all is well with you.Regards Anjum

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    1. As always your clear heart, brings insights of wonder. I am intrigued by the "Chair of Power". Thank you Anjum- it is nice to hear from you! xo Teri

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  9. I love your words and the image!

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  10. The brevity and heart behind these words is striking. I enjoyed this piece.

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  11. Wonderful use of words in this. A lifetime captured in a moment.

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  12. William Preston says:
    9 September 2013 at 2:32 AM

    This is a thoughtful poem, and it invited me to be thoughtful in reply. For me, it confirms, but yet refutes, the adage, “you can’t go home again.” It puts me in mind of John Howard Payne and Home, Sweet Home, a song about home written by a man who didn’t think he had one.
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    tmhHoover says:
    9 September 2013 at 11:58 PM

    William- Thank you.

    Your words prompted me to do a quick search on John Howard Payne. His poem/song. is indeed filled a long backward glance at home. And although I was familiar with the song I had never known its story. It is really quite sad the way Mr Payne seemed quite adrift from home himself. A quote for his diary sums it up for me.”The world has literally sung my song until every heart is familiar with its melody, yet I have been a wanderer from my boyhood.”- From the Diary of John Howard Payne-

    Feeling like a bit of a wanderer myself- I indulge my longings when I write, but always try to keep away from being completely melancholy. I added the last line as way to allow myself to return home. For me returning with and empty heart leaves room for what home is now.

    I only join the prompts here on occasion so it is very nice to have your thoughtful response. Teri Hoover

    An interesting link- http://librivox.org/home-sweet-home-by-john-howard-payne/

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Comments are welcome and appreciated, thanks so much for stopping by.