“Roses From Stones allows the reader to examine surroundings and one’s inner-self. Enjoy a quick and enjoyable read in your leisure!”
I find this poem piercing in a world where confusion and as the poem mentions, burdens, rule everything around us. To see beauty through it all is rough, but its worth it, because all of this suffering is temporary. All of the trivial things are temporary.
The metaphor of the penny, especially, grasped me. Anyone who stops to think of how often we wait on life to happen instead of living, would appreciate the reminder to live – to see beauty.
Won’t Stay Still:
Find yourself drawn into a conundrum of rushing, obsessing, and last but not least, running through life. This is a great reminder to keep reaching for our goals, but to keep our goals in perspective. I believe the key to this is being grateful for every moment — a constant struggle for almost everyone I know.
In this poem, which adorns a Pittsburgh art studio, vibrant colors meet beautiful words. Donesha creates an intricate portrait that any artist — painters, writers, photographers — will enjoy. She has not only captured the brilliance of art, but she has managed to put every detail into words.
“Earth tone yellow and orange, filling my heart; brown and red sifting through the art.
My stainless thoughts wrapped strategically in the swirls …”
Roses from Stones:
This is a poem many readers have found relatable, as it embodies finding one’s way through adversity. From the moment a writer’s pen meets the page, or their fingers meet the keyboard, creativity is unleashed, as we create beauty in a world that can be, at times, so discouraging.
“Fingers to pen, pen to page
She will banish all lies made of empty; she has become bare from chains of rage
Sweet roses from stone, melodies from rain …”
A More Weakened Me:
I often say, we never know by looking around, who is suffering from a broken heart. We never know who is suffering from an illness so devious, that a person would not know that they have been struck, until they have made it safely to higher ground. The illness I am talking about is depression. In “A More Weakened Me,” find a profound poem, touching to anyone who has experienced hard times.
” .. Just as crippling as dark and blinding night
Can’t move two feet ahead without feeling held back
Like a two edged sword piercing the depths of my heart
I am bleeding in large sums of disappointment …”