It’s “Almost The End” for Simple Sunday!
Welcome to Simple Sunday!
Tonight we are featuring yet another work by the Romanian artist who signs his work “gyurka.” And yes this is almost the end of our saved gyurka images for the Simple Sunday! See what new end-ing this image and your muse can inspire, along with a beginning and middle!
“Almost the end” by gyurka.
Please click the heart above if you enjoy this blog.
It you can please also spread the word
and invite a friend! 
Scotorum
Hello Bob awesomeness is art work ta night .. Will be back in a few wit what ever muse kin cum up wit .. Giggles .. Hugs :love: :love:
Welcome to the Simple Sunday Picture Challenge! A particularly timely artpiece some might say! But whatever you might say poetically, we want to read it!
APOCALYPSE NOW?
As arson brought the end of days
and Gabriel blew through smoke’s haze,
noble creatures showed objection
to civilized life’s destruction.
An archetype of good on Earth,
eagle torso, tree roots and girth,
faced certain destruction bound
as smouldering ash cloaked the ground.
Was thus millenia of toil,
and thoughtful sense brought to such boil?
Incredulous all beings seemed
while innocent and guilty screamed.
But wait! Can there be salvation
yet, plucked from this consternation?
Only those in the same species
might rescue all from fan-spread feces.
Does rescue come through liberty
though often some will disagree?
Can freedom to survive, succeed
impart the strength to sate each need?
Is that why eagle looks so stern?
To see what works set light to burn?
And more to point, is it too late
to halt apocalyptic fate?
Copyright September 29th 2012 RGD
END OF EXISTEN
Slip in and slide in we be
Off of this ever lastin earth
No hold barren the fall
We are head in for a deserter
Fallin fast
And still not break in
The closer we git
To the endin
The more fightin we do
Just to stay a float
The eagle
Had flow en the last miles
Fishes be pippin up outta water
Cuz its gitts hoter
No cool place
To be
The archangel
Begin to blow the horn
Fire just over the ridge
Of just how much
More of this can one bare
The end is near
Nearer than ones wanna know
But are we ready
Written By: Bettie Davis ————- © September 3o , 2o12
Well, I’m certainly glad you clarified the “end” part. Powerful artwork for pondering which I’ll do before I read any of the posts. Always a wonderful challenge. Greetings and Hugs to All. :love: :love: :love:
The End of Industry
Warnings from the angels
didn’t move despoilers and profiteers.
Increasingly more plaintive and graphic,
unseen by eyes averted, unheard by distracted ears.
We poison the oceans while masses they feed.
Drilled and spilled and overfished,
unguarded pluckings momentarily easing mans’ need.
The very exercise of often-unchecked greed.
Virgin rain forests are cut and burned
for a meager sustenance the cleared land may return.
In our sad cities no work can be found-
faraway factories are staffed by near-slaves.
To a cycle of overconsumption we are bound.
Ice caps are melting, we run to the sea.
Soothing surf helps us forget poisoned land we flee.
On large waterfront estates lords of prey also be.
The unfilled promise and failure of industry,
all washed away by the unsparing sea.
Tony
9/30/12
[img]
The Last Eagle
Art by :gyurka
As my wings feel all
All the pain and what is to be
Will we succeed will we be
Less time and what he has written before thee ‘
How much longer until the other eye becomes blind unable to see
At the beginning ones did warn as they did foresee
The angels above know for they are with he
As they sound even the fish hear before we
But, remember as viewed with light shared one creed
Anew life filled with peace, love believe
FINALLY PUT TO REST
We pass by each other
on our way from here
to wherever more,
too busy,
too distracted,
too lost in thoughts
to even care,
parked and abandoned
within zones of comfort
and familiarity,
areas of little risk
and rather reluctant
to even begin to share.
But amid the swirling oceans,
the fires and the storms
that have often plagued
my mind and soul,
my heart awakens this morning
to the clarion anthem’s song,
the trumpet sounding,
golden notes piercing
through the armor
and the shield
once constructed
around this fragile heart
to keep the pain outside.
The fires have raged;
the storms have unleashed
whatever untold power
they’ve had over me
as they’re laid to rest,
their hold over my heart
finally put to an end.
(c) barbara kausteklis 9-30-12
All such wonderful poetry posted for this powerful artwork which says so much on so many levels. Always fun to participate here on Sundays. :love: :love: :love: