formulations

formulations s

The curve is filled with an intensity of emotions that stretches to eternity.
The curve trembles in fear.
The curve can taste the edges of the silence in its tentacles.

O Galileo!  What path can we follow away from the gravity of Earth?

The curve is empty, spilling its contents into a weightless void.

The mirror gathers the songs of the lost and echoes them back in a pulsing of 808s.
The mirror reflects the images of the night sky, magnifying the sound.

Remember the pattern:  E=mc2.

The voiceless parabola crosses between the lines.
The voiceless parabola becomes the lines.

Galileo burns all the mirrors.

If E=mc2 what does K=?

Our illusions will fail to be optical.
Our unborne illusions will overshadow our minds.
Our illusions will be part of the equation.

(Que Sera, Sera)

Our illusions will dance on our graves,
stretching forever along the curve of our blindness,
into the vast unknown.

formulations close up s

I thought the NaPoWriMo prompt list of random directions for writing a poem would result in something silly.  But that’s not where it wanted to go.

Art inspired by Richard Diebenkorn.

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here comes the sun

here comes the sun s

here comes the sun magnetic

Magnetic dream poetry for NaPoWriMo and Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above.

here comes the sun close up s

 

Crow shades
the light as dawn walks
between the secrets
of my night

Listen

Roots breathe air
into birds
climbing bright song
through tendriled dark

Follow the wind

The Oracle, as always, gives good advice.

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everything we need

everything we need s

we do not
need revelation–
what will be
should be un
known, a mystery, like night
skies, like orbiting—

if we hold
the stars, the cosmos,
constant in
awe, we have
already seen both the be
ginning and the end

everything we need close up s

A shadorma chain for Colleen’s tanka Tuesday.  The theme, picked by Sally Cronin, is the night sky.

under the new moon

cherry blossoms s

The day is dreary and cold.  A passing subway train, nearly empty, rattles the window as I remove the screen.  A few black umbrellas walk by.

The apartments on the opposite side of my building look out on the river and the park.  I wonder if they see signs of spring emerging through the grey blur of the rain.

cloudburst
blossoms fill the sky
pink showers

cherry blossoms close up s

For Frank Tassone’s #haikai challenge #131, first cherry blossoms.  I did the artwork sometime last year, and saved it for spring.  The seasons will come, with or without our approval.

as our footsteps answer in a timeless dance

as our footsteps angled s

we journey, a field of voices
emanating from the golden
earth, the sky pulling, lifting

the sounds into light, lifting
the wings of birds into voices
calling within a chorus of golden

majesty, the songs writ golden
on the beckoning horizon, lifting
the weight of history with voices

echoing voices—golden, hearts lifting

A tritina, for Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above, and Jane Dougherty’s new weekly challenge.  Jane featured a work from poet Francis Ledwidge, asking us to choose 3 words from his poem for Thomas McDonagh as the 3 words featured in a tritina.  I chose voices, golden, and lifting.

as our footsteps s

I used metallic paint in my watercolor, but the light was not right to reflect it when I photographed it from above.  I think the angled shot works well with the words as well as holding on better to the light.

I’m so happy to see Jane’s challenge has been revived–my discovery of it was a real stimulus for seriously writing poetry and using my art in conjunction with it, not to mention connecting me with many WordPress friends.  And she always finds interesting art and words!  I was trying to find the first one of her challenges I did, and I think it may be this one, which was part of a back-and-forth of art between my co-blogger on MethodTwoMadness, Nina, and me.  Nina works in a medical office so is on the front lines so to speak.  I miss her art, but applaud her, and all those working to keep us going in these uncertain times, for their important work.

as our footsteps close up s

I did not consult the Oracle yet today, but she was definitely looking over my shoulder for this one…

as the crow flies

as the crow flies s

a world built of stories to dream upon–
paths to follow like rivers to the sea–
ancient horizons that stretch on and on

bordered by waves that mirror wings—a bird
reciprocating every single breath
released to the wind—a sounding, a word,

a sky that keeps its time adrift, at bay–
speaking in unknown tongues, beyond all sound–
silence that pivots both toward and away

For Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above, an attempt at the dVerse challenge from Laura to use 3 rhyme sets from poet Raymond Garlick in 10 syllable lines.  My rhythm is definitely not pentameter, although it is 10 syllabled.  I think that requires more distinctly separate lines.

as the crow close up s

This is my first watercolor in quite awhile, definitely since I moved as I unpacked the paints and brushes just this morning.  It felt good to get back to it.