HelenART

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HelenART
by
Helena Marie

Helena's artwork caught my eye the minute I saw it. Beautiful, inspiring, and vivid with color. It's amazing
how she can share that with everyone. -- Eliana Amusin, proud owner of a piece of HelenART won at auction

When Lucki asked me if I was willing to share some of my art on Earthstar Works, I was surprised and honored. As a singer, writer, poet, and visual artist, I consider my art an integral part of me, even though it's not my vocation. (My work is centered around people who have and need help with mental health matters.) I hope you find food for thought and joy in the visual and verbal art I'll be presenting here. You can email me about this page at [email protected] with HELENA as the first word of the Subject line. I would love to hear from you.

SKIP TO FEEDBACK

START WITH OLDEST

VISUAL ART

START WITH OLDEST

VERBAL ART

It's the Midnight Hour – Where Are You? (2024-05-25)
It's the midnight hour,
Do you know where your heart is at?
Off in some back ally
Somewhere breaking
Leaving a stream
Of blood leaking
Across the asphalt.
See these tears?
This bitter disillusionment
Called Life not going my way?
A swift kick in the ass
And I'm face down
Spread eagle on the ground
Wondering where the sky is at.
It's the midnight hour,
Do you know where your consciousness is at?
Dwelling on all the should-a, could-a, would-a
Of a night in the past
I just can't seem to fucking change.
I want to rip out my hair
In bitter despair.
It's the midnight hour,
Do you know where your head is at?
It's in a demented dark version of Disneyland
For people who cannot let go of past mistakes
Whose very minds have become torture chambers
Featuring a private hell and an assortment
Of devices for arousing pain.
Like "How the hell could I make that mistake?"
I wrap my hair round and round in my fists
Before pulling very hard
In my anguish.
It's the midnight hour,
Do you know where your dreams are at?
Broken and scattered at my feet.
Stomped on. Stepped over. Cracked. Discarded. Disregarded. Ignored.
Blowing away in the wind as bits of dust and shit.
It's the midnight hour,
What else is there to say?

These empty meaningless words.
That spill across this blank page.
I sit here and weep at the unexpected blow,
Wondering what the fuck happened.
Where did the wind go after the frightening punch to the gut?
One minute I was standing.
Now I'm on my knees crawling, weeping, beseeching the invisible God
For a release from the madness that is me.

MY FRIEND, THE GIVING TREE (2024-01-06)
An Elegy in Memory of David Howard Luster (1960 - 2023)
(See accompanying picture)
I don't know how to be selfless.
I don't how to be a giver.
To lay down my life for another.
To give of me, until all of me is an empty
Core full of my love for you.
To flow with my arms open.
To let go of all restraint.
Of what I think is mine, all mine.

But you my friend
Gave of yourself to the very end.
To the ends of the earth.
When hope itself was the thin whisper
Of a branch in the wind.
Like the nightingale in a storybook from my childhood,
Who gave all its heart's blood and song to turn the white rose red
For true love's sake; but love did not win out.
This world is such an unfair place
Where broken dreams and hardships seem to be the norm
And struggles are endless.
But there you were,
Weathering the storm.
Always thinking of others first before yourself.
The Giving Tree.
You gave until the end.
Even though it hurt.
To your last dying breath.
I hope at last
You can finally rest
And be at peace.
My friend, the Giving Tree.
(Also see Eulogy in Abiding Blog)

BLOODY NEW YEAR (2024-01-01)
We dance in the circling lights
As the confetti falls
As the sparkling glasses are raised high
As the song Auld Lang Syne
Plays
Thank God, we made it.
My friend cried out.
Her arms stretched out in the shadows
Wistful tears in her eyes
Goodbye 2023!
Yet tears of joy stream down her face
Hello to 2024!

Outside the street is lined with police cars.
Foster Avenue has been shut down between Pauline and Ashland.
I didn't hear the gunshots earlier
over the loud dance music in the hall.
Didn't hear the screech of wheels
the sound of road rage unleashed.
A man shot in the face
On this New Year's Eve.
And now here we are celebrating life
As a man lies in a hospital wing
Fighting for his.
Hello 2024.
At least for some of us anyway.

IF ONLY IN MY DREAMS (2023-01-02)
Sitting in the nursing home
With my husband of 16 years.
The song "I'll Be Home For Christmas".
Comes on the radio.
I look into his deep brown eyes and sad face
Wishing he were home with me.
I gaze at all the aging residents around me in their wheelchairs
With their walkers and canes
And I wondered where home was for them.
How they might have longed to go back to the place
That was once their own
Instead of this nursing home
With the sterile walls
And coded keypad by the elevator buttons that prevented elopement.
I once thought that if you loved someone enough
You wouldn't have to put them in a nursing home;
You could be together.
Be together…
Like in this wistful Christmas song
That in this light
Caused the heart to ache and bleed.
"I'll be home for Christmas,
If Only In My Dreams…"

END OF LIFE (2022-07-19 PM)
The End Game is so painful
Watching someone you love
Unravel and die
Watching yourself break
Into pieces
A million tiny little bits of glass
Waiting to cut you.
See? This is my heart,
And it is bleeding.

The End Game.
The end of life as we know it
On planet Earth.
Watching your loved one
Slip away from you.
Nothing can hold back the force of gravity
As they slip out of your grasp
Your clenched sweaty hands
Coming undone,
The way life comes undone
When we die.

GUILTY JUSTICE (2022-07-19 AM)
Guilty justice
Infringing on a woman's right to choose.
But America, you beat your chest,
Touting your right to bear arms.
Save our babies,
Keep our guns.
We need the target practice?
America, I am disgusted.
I can't celebrate the Fourth
Without thinking that it's all a bunch
Of hypocrisy anyway.
The skyrockets in the air
A farce
Of what
Coulda
Shoulda
Woulda been
But never actually was.
Oh the lies that we tell ourselves.
That this land is actually free,
That there is a white picket fence for everyone
And dreams really do come true,
Pushing infant life on the one hand
Then looking the other way
As young children are murdered in a rain of bullets
From a very legal gun.

Guilty justice
I lay my hands on my empty womb
And wonder what it would have been like
To have been forced to bring forth another life.
I was 17 then,
Young, wild and free.
Not knowing what consequences lie ahead.
But one thing I did know was that
I did not love myself.
How could I give love anyone else?
Young and scared,
With my back against the wall.

I made my choice.
And I have to live with it.
But it was still my choice to make.
Guilty justice
Infringing on a woman's right to choose.
But America, you beat your chest,
Touting your right to bear arms.
Save our babies!
Keep our guns!
America, we make no sense.

AND WE ARE ALL JUST PASSING THROUGH
(see 2021-05-25)

I WAS HUNGRY
(see 2021-04-12)

PART OF THE SOLUTION (2020-06-15)
What can I do to be of service?
To help heal this broken world?
What can I do to wipe away the stain of racism?
Do I listen?
Do I take to the streets?
Say prayers?
Study the words?
Do I ask you my friend,
How you are doing today?
And truly hear what you have to say?
How can I walk in love?
How can I swallow my anger,
My sense of rightness,
My crumbling sense of whiteness
And hear your pain?
I want to stand with you
But what does that mean?
Raise my voice?
What do I say?
Do I say that I love you in all your dark black beauty,
And truly mean it from the bottom of my heart,
Which I do?
How do I help heal this broken world?
To be part of the solution?
To destroy racism with a great brandishing ax,
To wipe away the stain of 400 years.
400 years of being told you were nothing
When you are so beautiful
In your survival,
In your refusal
To let this disease of racism destroy you….

POEMS FOR THE COVID 19 ERA
(see 2020-05-03)

ANGRY AGAIN (2020-04-30)
My teeth are grinding.
It's like the whole world is out to get me!
Leave me alone!
In my fear, I shake my fist
raise my haunches
and prepare to fight back.
Cornered, I bare my teeth
like the wild animal that I am.
I feel my face get red,
steaming like a hot peppers in my mouth.
Sweat drips across my brow.
My teeth are grinding
as my wrists pound.
Blood pumping madly
like wild stallions
pounding across a barrren stretch of land.
Angry again.
I mutter in a strange jargon,
a chain of words
that makes me resemble a woman
who is a far cry
from the loving one
I strive to be.
Anger.
That all consuming flame,
a torment for my mind and soul,
as I burn and burn.
Burn away all sense of love and dignity,
warping my senses and perceptions
on how the world should be
or really is....

GOD IN ALL THE EARTH (2020-03-03)
Sometimes I search for God
among the broken bottles
gleaming in the light
trailing my feet across the gravel
of the alley, looking down.
I see God in the wind,
smell the summer's storm,
the lightening burning across the sky
with electricity.
God is calling
as leaves are falling,
prostrating themselves
before gravity and pavement.
The first snowfall
bring`s the Lord's call
and I fall down
making snow angels
on the ground,
laughing and screaming
like a child
not abandoned by the world.
God is in the bark of this tree.
His countenance smiles at me.
Laughter, the warbling brook.
Faster than a jack rabbit runs.
He is washing up on the shores
of every beach,
painted, glowing
always within reach.
Yet far away as Venus burns in her brilliance.
Heavens above!
I see God in your love,
gleaming in your eyes,
crescent moons and stars
shining in your irises
a rainbow in your laughter
as God's name springs from your lips,
the spark of creation withhin us all.
I see God walking down the alley
on the way to work.
I see God in all the Earth.

SOULFUL EYES
(see 2020-02-06)

THE DAY STRETCHING AHEAD WAITING TO BE LIVED
(see 2018-02-11)

POEM ON LOVE AND MARRIAGE (2017-06-15)
I reach for you
but our intimacy is so elusive.
A peck on the check
leaves me full of longing.
Sometimes marriage is a mountain of dirty clothes
in the laundry basket.
The soiled jeans!
The unwashed dishes!
The mess on the floor!
I find myself trying to keep up with all that there is.
But the monkey bars I'm trying to grasp onto
are coated with oil.
I slip and hit the pavement hard.
In my bewilderment
I ask myself if I truly love this man
and the answer is
YES.
Sometimes marriage is lonely nights
lying next to your beloved.
It's also walking through life with your counterpart.
It is love.
It is taking a deep breath
before some regretful choice words are said.
Marriage is a medley of perserverance,
patience and stoicism.
It is being strong
when the world is coming apart at the seams,
when the water of the creek is rising
and you are neck deep.
so you hold on and endure,
for that's what love is.

UNTITLED (2017-06-15)
I wept forsaken with tears no one else could see,
Fighting an invisible war
in dark places,
back alleys,
darkened theaters,
in the bowels of my screaming mind.
My invisible anguish,
my scars,
are not draped across my body like insignias
or badges of honor.
My battle was a nameless one,
full of shame,
walking the steps of the invisible child,
invisible woman.
I wear the mask of acceptability,
but it's cracked and frayed at the edges.
The inner demon longs to emerge
with long twisted nails and gnarled teeth,
gnawing on an old bone
that has lost all its taste,
save for death and destitution.
I saw my innocence die
brutally murdered on the alter
of someone else's desires and needs.
Pedophile!
With reaching and groping hands.
I am the invisible one!
The Gaia figure with no face
and an exaggerated womb,
giving birth to a world of hurt.
x
How and Why?
Do I carry this bag of broken shards on my back
after thirty-four years have slipped by?
The glass is cutting through the burlap,
the teeth, biting into my shoulders...
See
See
See?!!!
Never free.
Never free!
I survived but never free.
Prisoner of my own deranged mind.
I wept forsaken with tears no one else could see....

HOW CAN I BE A WARRIOR (song I wrote in 2002)
(See accompanying picture)
How can I be a Warrior with so much pain inside?
How can I be a Warrior when I lay down and cry?
These tears, they are coming straight from the heart.
These tears, they are bleeding straight from the heart.
I call myself a Warrior cause I've seen the battle lines.
I call myself a Warrior cause I've seen the darker side.
I've walked along the shadowy roads of hell in this life.
And now I'm here standing proud cause I am still alive.
x
I honor my Creator but sometimes I question Him,
Why did you spare a fool like me who was drowning in her sin?
I've watched some of those I loved go out like a snuffed candlelight.
Yet I cannot even fathom why my Lord, you chose to spare my life.
But I thank you,
But I thank you...
x
How can I be a Warrior with so much pain inside?
How can a be a Warrior when I lay down and cry?
These tears, they are coming straight from the heart.
These tears, they are bleeding straight from the heart.
I call myself a Warrior cause I've seen the battle lines.
I call myself a Warrior cause I've seen the darker side.
I've walked along the shadowy roads of hell in this life.
And now I'm here standing proud cause I am still alive.
And I thank you.
And I thank you....
(see 2020-03-25 Aphorisms & Memes poster)

LOOKING FOR GOD (song I wrote when I was 19)
Looking for God,
Looking for truth,
To feed my hungry soul.
Looking for God
Looking for truth
To fill this empty hole.
x
And I must have traveled across a thousand seas
Searching for the answers inside of me.
And I must have traveled across a thousand seas
Searching for the answers inside of me.
x
Looking for God,
Looking for truth,
To feed my hungry soul.
Looking for God
Looking for truth
To fill this empty hole.
x
No God of war for me,
I need a God who is loving and free.
No God of conformity,
I need a God who will love me for me.
x
Looking for God,
Looking for truth,
To feed my hungry soul.
Looking for God
Looking for truth
To fill this empty hole.
x
Who will I run to,
When the night is too long?
Who will I pray to,
When there is no one at all?
No God of war for me,
I need a God who is loving and free.
No God of conformity,
I need a God who will love me for me.
And I must have traveled across a thousand seas
Searching for the answers inside of me.

FEEDBACK

Mon, Apr 4, 2022 at 11:53 PM, Nancy B. wrote:
I love Helena's art. Her drawings are so colorful, and I love her way with words, too, and have enjoyed seeing her perform some of her poetry.

Tue, Apr 5, 2022 at 12:10 PM, David N. wrote:
I like the BLM one with the peace sign as a tear.
Thanks.

Fri, Apr 8, 2022 at 3:17 PM, David L. wrote:
Helena's paintings remind me of [Margaret] Keane with the colors and the big eyes.

Sat, Apr 9, 2022 at 8:44 AM, Brandy wrote:
Thank you for pointing out Helena's art. It is beautiful.

Wed, Apr 13, 2022 at 12:45 PM, Lann wrote:
I like the way Helena uses her art to illustrate sayings, but I also like the ones with no words at all. I don't know if it's Na*ve or Outsider or what kind of art, but it's unique and colorful.

Sat, Jun 4, 2022 at 11:19 PM, Gus wrote:
I like her [visual] art. It is beautiful and unusual. And I like her poetry, too. She is really talented.

Thu, Sep 1, 2022 at 12:59 PM, Faye wrote:
"Guilty Justice"caught my eye!

Thu, Sep 1, 2022 at 2:20 PM, Saba wrote:
Good Afternoon.
Thank you for your persistence in keeping up your site and encouraging other artists.
I really like Helena's art work and I wonder if we can find a way to have some of her art be made into cards people can buy? what do you think?
Has she considered selling her art work?
Here are two of my favorites...from the ones I could see on the site now: 2022-04-23 and 2022-02-14.
Happy Thursday,
Saba
(Extended conversation resulted in reader's offer to research the feaibility and mechanics of printing cards for sale.)

Fri, Sep 2, 2022 at 3:30 AM, Syda wrote:
Thank you! Love the art!

Wed, Oct 19, 2022 at 1:41 PM, Saba wrote:
Dear Lucki & Helena,
Thank you for you efforts and collaboration to keep the spirit of this world warm, sweet and uplifted through the arts.
I feel lucky to join you in this path and to be able to have some of dear Helena's art at my home.
With love & prayers
Saba :)

Sat, Dec 3, 2022 at 10:30 PM, Svetlana wrote:
I really like Helena's style. It is so full of color. I'm glad I was able to buy some.

Sun, Dec 4, 2022 at 11:40 PM, Nancy B wrote:
Helena, I always enjoy seeing the new art. Your art is unique. There's a lot of you in them. It makes them special.

Fri, May 12, 2023 at 1:52 PM. Julie S wrote:
Hi Luckily
Thanks for sharing Helena's wonderful Art. Very creative and love the prayers and poems. Three flower emojis
Love Julie

Thu, Feb 1, 2024 at 11:58 PM, Nancy B wrote:
In Helena's elegy ["My Friend, the Giving Tree" 2024-01-06], you can really feel the emotion in what she wrote. Her art is beautiful, too.

Mon, Jul 1, 2024 at 4:35 PM, Lucki wrote:
Obviously, I don't normally comment on the art I've posted for HelenArt, but this time I had an insight I just plain want to share with people.
When I first saw Bi-Polar Mind, I just sort of counted the word bubbles; and I thought, "Oh, they're not equal; there's 7 negative ones on the left side and only 6 positive ones on the right side." Then it hit me. "No, look again. Helena put her signature on the right side. The bright side. That's the 7th positive!"
Good goin', girl.

Mon, Jul 1, 2024 at 6:30 PM, Kim B wrote:
HelenArt - oh my!!! How expressive. What a life!
My love to her.
Kim

Mon, Jul 1, 2024 at 7:25 PM, Nilufar wrote:
I'm honored to own a Helena original which I proudly display in my office at school.
Excited to see her most recent creations!

Tue, Jul 2, 2024 at 11:50 AM, Lann wrote:
"The Path" [2024-06-06] really struck me. Helena's done pieces in support of Ukraine before. "With Ukraine" [2022-03-02] was very direct. "Flowers for Ukraine" [2022-05-16] was less loud, but still direct with the title and the flowers and water reflecting the flag colors. Her mural sketch [2022-06-17] used blue and yellow flowers for Ukraine and red, black, and green flowers for BLM. I liked that, it was so simple. She used them again in "One Country" [2022-06-20]. She used the flag colors at the bottom of "Peace Blossom-Vivid," [2022-11-20] so it was more subtle but still understandable. But the things in "The Path" was amazing. The blue and yellow, but above them the looming red bringing the storms with lightning like bombs and shells. The only thing standing in the way of the red was the pyramid with the eye for America like the pyramid on $1. All the people are running onto the path to come ask us for continued support and money to help them fight the Russian invasion. Very rich and meaningful. Thank you to Helena.

All work here is copyright © as of the indicated date of the work by Helena Marie Carnes.
Email me via [email protected] if you wish to purchase or commission an original
(on paper, card, or magnetic sheet) or to copy anything on this page for any purpose.

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