Project Pitch Time

[toosuto]

So I need to play around with illustration styles and such so I can have a developed style to pitch to Art Directors. Here is where you come in: Maybe you'd like some sort of art and aren't too picky about when you actually get it. I think I'd like to try illustrating some poetry coupling the words with abstract or maybe not so abstract images. You get to pitch poems to me: if I pick your project pitch at the end of it you'll get print ready files for your own use (and then if anybody else wants prints etc. I will make them super available and affordable.

Hit me with watcha got!

Also: It's national poetry month: how tie-in-a-licious is that?

Comments

[mrsbrewer.livejournal.com]

I would love to see what you could do with any of my dream haiku... Here are a couple with good images, but if you want something more abstract, you can look under the "dream haiku" tag in my lj.

The dark-skinned women
Pray with their heads tilted back
And their eyes squeezed shut

Columns of gray clouds
Watch them march across the sky
And take your last breath

Starry canvas sky
Satellite looms then tumbles
Like an angel falls

Newsprint photograph
Unabashed camaraderie
Here's four-color proof

Something's jumbled here
Orangewhite tigers live on land
Not this water world

Starlit cityscape
Warm concrete and baked red bricks
Dogwood flowers bloom

[birchfire.livejournal.com]

Man, I love your haikus!

no pressure :)

[birchfire.livejournal.com]

ok, here's some of my (humble, oh so humble) submissions:

This vast and fragile bridge
Leads from darkness into light
I keep walking walking walking
In my starry starry night

AND ANOTHER ONE
she unpinned the heart
from his sleeve
and set it in his hand
asked him to look at it
wondered if he had ever seen it
he let everyone else eye his love
but never allowed himself
that one great fulfillment
her one great sorrow
when others smiled
he accepted that blessing
never knowing the truth
and never loving anything
but his shirt

AND ONE LAST ONE
I can't wait to be free, I tell her
I can't wait until I can soar
she hears my dream
and with a smile
she wounds my wings
I say no more

a pome

[dr-tectonic.livejournal.com]

Polished since I first posted it in my LJ.


Chicxulub

After thirty million years
of late Cretaceous glory
thumbed and self-aware
we rose
from among our scaly
brethren beasts

A hundred thousand more
before
the speaking spark was lit
and we speared our thoughts
with sound

A handful of millennia
for us to write
our names
across the earth

A scant few centuries
to stare
with knowledge into night

A solitary month
to chart the comet's course

And dread our coming doom


* * *


From halfway round the globe
I saw the impact flash
reflected on the moon

A sudden dawn
to herald
coming darkness

And knew across the sea
a continent had died
in supersonic flame

The earth began to dance
and sway
a gentle glow suffused
the sky
from orbit molten glass
rained down
in iridescent glory

And as the waves bore up
as high as hills
to wipe us out of history

I stood beneath
their great green curl
beheld the death
of all I knew

And all that I could see
was beauty

[goobermunch.livejournal.com]

cremation of Sam Magee.

[dr-tectonic.livejournal.com]

OW MY BRAIN!

To fulfill the geek, yet well-known quotient

[bryree.livejournal.com]

Jabberwocky.

Or perhaps

[bryree.livejournal.com]

The Tale of Custard the Dragon

Belinda lived in a little white house,
With a little black kitten and a little gray mouse,
And a little yellow dog and a little red wagon,
And a realio, trulio, little pet dragon.

Now the name of the little black kitten was Ink,
And the little gray mouse, she called him Blink,
And the little yellow dog was sharp as Mustard,
But the dragon was a coward, and she called him Custard.

Ogden Nash

Re: Or perhaps

[saralindalarson.livejournal.com]

Bryan, My very favorite! How did you know?

[thedragonweaver.livejournal.com]

Not poetry, but this has been running through my head the last couple of days.

The Egyptian God Bast at the Funeral of Dream
Neal Gaiman

"We were never lovers, and we never will be, now. I do not regret that, however. I regret the conversations we never had, the time we did not spend together.

I regret that I never told him that he made me happy, when I was in his company. The world was the better for his being in it.

These things alone do I now regret: things left unsaid.

And he is gone, and I am old."

[thedragonweaver.livejournal.com]

Incidentally, the reason this has been running through my head is because of Susan Ivanova at the end of season four of Babylon 5. Just in case you've seen it.