Animation is giving spirit or life.
To animate is an act.
To animate is an act.
Animation is an art.
Animation for children is a joy.
Animation for children is a joy.
"Laughing Heart" by Charles Bukowski
Your Challenge: Write a new poem that is about animation or about a specific animation or a new poem that is animated or a new poem that would make a great animated film or a new poem that reacts to one of the visual images in this prompt.
Hahaha ... lots of choices!
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| An example of computer animation which is produced in the "motion capture" technique |
There's something about seeing this little inanimate object
coming to life that's just very exciting. ~Tim Burton
coming to life that's just very exciting. ~Tim Burton
What do I mean when I say 'suspended animation'? It is the process by which animals de-animate, appear dead and then can wake up again without being harmed. OK, so here is the sort of big idea: If you look out at nature, you find that as you tend to see suspended animation, you tend to see immortality. ~Mark Roth
Excerpt from A Lovers Call XXVII by
. . . .
Where are you, my beloved? Do you hear my weeping
From beyond the ocean? Do you understand my need?
Do you know the greatness of my patience?
Is there any spirit in the air capable of conveying
To you the breath of this dying youth? Is there any
Secret communication between angels that will carry to
You my complaint?
Where are you, my beautiful star? The obscurity of life
Has cast me upon its bosom; sorrow has conquered me.
Sail your smile into the air; it will reach and enliven me!
Breathe your fragrance into the air; it will sustain me!
Where are you, me beloved?
Oh, how great is Love!
And how little am I!
(Read the long beginning of this poem HERE at Poetry Soup)
Excerpt from I Ask You By Billy Collins
What scene would I want to be enveloped in
more than this one,
an ordinary night at the kitchen table,
floral wallpaper pressing in,
white cabinets full of glass,
the telephone silent,
a pen tilted back in my hand?
. . . .
So forgive me
if I lower my head now and listen
to the short bass candle as he takes a solo
while my heart
thrums under my shirt--
frog at the edge of a pond--
and my thoughts fly off to a province
made of one enormous sky
and about a million empty branches.
(Read the rest HERE at Poem Hunter.)
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Please share your new poem using Mr. Linky below and visit others
in the spirit of the community.
(Next week Susan's Midweek Motif will be ~ Tranquility)
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