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The Dreaming Pool
The creation of something new is not accomplished by the intellect but by the play instinct acting from inner necessity. The creative mind plays with the objects it loves.
​
Carl Jung

Memories of Oregon - Painting by Trish Noble
Prose
Short form poetry and long form prose for perusal.


t.noble
2 days ago1 min read
my valentine
My love for him is not held in a card, or chocolate candy. It is a tapestry, woven through years; a story told with gold and silver...
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t.noble
3 days ago1 min read
Self Pity and Tea.
Mr. Self Pity came calling today, well really it snuck up behind me and gave me little choice but to see him. I wish I wish I wish.... I...
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t.noble
4 days ago1 min read
over wound
An over wound clock tells no time.
It can't even speak to promises
or hope. It is only a historian.
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t.noble
5 days ago1 min read
Restocking
An empty husk holds no words. I must remind myself, each time I say Yes, that it is No, to my own cup. Your own divinity reminds me that...
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t.noble
Feb 91 min read
A Biography
I am superfluous in every way. When I talk it is in overtones; dramatic emotions, images, messy paint and ideas that may not connect....
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t.noble
Feb 71 min read
unknown tones
You travel through the maze around my heart; paths I have never seen and hold no hope of discovering. You leave no crumbs to follow, and...
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t.noble
Feb 31 min read
farewell to winter
snow. felt like a minor chord
on a cold cheek, melting with the baritone voice of a cello.
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t.noble
Feb 21 min read
Let's begin, again.
Let us begin. Again. I feel as though I have broken trust with people. Are you going to keep creating? Are you going to stop again? The...
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t.noble
Feb 11 min read
prayer to a river
Stones speak in centuries; they hold no comfort. They are marked and worn slowly and relentlessly .The river forks around them, flowing...
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t.noble
Feb 11 min read
uncrossed lovers
Metaphors stretch and strain as your name is written. They remind me of myself in your arms. They beg for punishment in lust, in desire,...
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t.noble
Feb 11 min read
This Old Movie
I look out from this crooked old doorway, to the tattered lawn, to broken cobble stones. I remember that I need to uninvite you from this...
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t.noble
Feb 11 min read
for an old car, lost in a photo
after a while, it became so forgotten that the stories it once remembered became a fiction
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t.noble
Jan 221 min read
Blank Canvas
Notions; little wisps of potential without shape or purpose, lookingfor a crack in the dreamers’ mind, waiting to be more than a shadow,...
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t.noble
Jan 211 min read
illuminations
I watched the mother bear, as she gave birth to a thousand pages. The bears standing near held her paws and coached, helping tobring...
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