Monday, August 31, 2009

Turtle Does

I wrote this poem many years ago as an ode to a good friend. (He knows who he is...) The photo is by Tom Wiebe, another Passion Coffee House literati.

This was stylistically inspired by the works of various beat poets, and by our mutual friend Jacob, who wrote a wonderful performance piece that was joyful and full of life in the creative percolator called the Passion Coffee House.

So there was this turtle-boy, ya see, and his eyes were baskets of blue lilies but he didn’t believe in anything like a Maxwell-House-skirting-the-issue, and he often kissed cannabis plants so we couldn’t smell the LSD on his breath like a sun-worshipping-jelly-baby, oh ya.

Crazy is as turtle does, often a pink baby goat but mostly lost on a blank page in a cafe-that-wants-to-spit-on-porcupines he was frequenting, and frequently late at for nothing except a banshee that was made of wood and mufflers that don’t work anyways, who was like an orange skinny-girl-with-airplanes-in-her-eyes that turtle does love, oh ya.

- Chelsea Bell

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

The Supplicant

Jupiter and Thetis by IngresThetis Ascending by Michael MallinThe Suplicant by Chelsea Bell

Often in my life I have found that art inspires art, and that the elements that are applicable to the life of the artist are what is brought out in their interpretation of the work. Ingres's original work, 'Jupiter and Thetis' depicts Thetis begging for the protection of her son Achilles from the all powerful Jupiter (another name for Zeus.). In Michael Mallin's painting, 'Thetis Ascending', Thetis tickles Zeus's beard, eye to eye with him as she appears to demand Achilles' safety.

My sketch was inspired by Micheal's painting, and is drawn from the perspective of Zeus. In my mind, Thetis is coming to him bare in supplication, trying to negotiate her son's safety at any cost. This sketch was also stylistically inspired by Michael's painting, although the perspective is my own.

Sunday, August 16, 2009


This poem came to me at a troubled time in my life, after the relationship with my mother had completely disintegrated. Poetry can be very cathartic; I found this painful to write, but I certainly felt better after the fact. The quality of the writing is suspect, but I like it anyway.

wear your faith as a blindfold
dispensing casual justice
in defense of your guilt

will you trade us
unlovable urchins of your heart
in your quest for absolution

our bellies full of bitterness
we retched it out
in favor of a slower poison

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