1
on hawkwings return
me to the timeless before–
climbing windswept paths
2
currents ride
wings that touch both here
and yonder
3
rootpaths follow earth–
wings listen to ancient moons–
blue rivers of night
4
perched in place,
sharply focused, air
paused, waiting
5
stillness of being–
feathers answering the wind–
open, becoming
Brendan supplied some images this week at earthweal to inspire ekphrastic poems. I chose to work with hawk, above.
the sign said
catch me if you can—
I inquired
as to who
or what, but the Universe
declined to answer
instead of
illuminating,
it withdrew–
tangled, cleft–
its secrets woven into
labyrinthine curves
it looked like
a portal—but it
was only
a loophole–
false passage, another de
lusion full of knots
For dVerse OLN, hosted by Grace, where I’ve finally gotten around to using Jane’s Random Words for the week.. I’ve also finally produced a poem with the word “loophole” which I told Sun I was going to do months ago…
what I keep secret
is written on my body
underneath my skin–
what I choose to feel
shows up hidden, as tattoos
blood-inked inside veins
that hostage my heart,
a pounding prison of fear–
frozen, silent, still–
no magic portal
arrives to illuminate
who I am and why–
only the moon sees, the stars–
reflecting me back, alive
For W3 prompt #36, where Muri has asked for a 14 line poem on the subject of poverty.
and what if
you grew roots,
awakened spirit,
became treebound–
your blood flowing
glorious amidst sapwood–
your body suddenly
magnificent, unhewn—
your arms branching
toward the sun,
Familiar to birds,
ancient, floating
on the breath of wings–
your heartwood
trembling, weightless,
awash in light?
A quadrille for dVerse, where De has given us the word wing, and for earthweal, where Sherry has asked us to speak for the trees. I’ve also used Jane’s Oracle 2 words as inspiration.
listing waves of change–
immense confused unwell–
a bitter solitude–
fretful shapeless still
wilderness estranged–
damaged undazzled quelled
reversed and left unmoored–
a landscape murdered killed
misunderstood deranged
hypnotic words cast spells–
a whispered mania–
the mind unravels, spills
connection broken frayed–
once Paradise, now Hell
Bjorn at dVerse gave us the challenge of writing a bref double poem. I had a lot of trouble with the rhythm of this form, a dissatisfaction that I could only resolve by making the b and c rhymes similar.
Like Punam, I looked to Jane’s Oracle 2 words for inspiration and received a similar message.
I couldn’t get the Oracle to work online this morning, so I turned to my box of magnetic tiles and arranged them on the metal magnetic poetry stand Nina gave me a few years ago. Wing was the first word to appear.
Last night I attended a Zoom memorial for a friend who died a little over a year ago. It was clear from everyone’s words that she was a shining light for all those she whose lives she intersected with. Certainly she was for me and my children, and for all her many students, some of whom spoke eloquently about her influence on their lives.
I dreamt about her–although I remember no specifics of the dream, I woke with these words on my mind–“Rise up into the truth that matters”. A fitting epitaph, We miss you Chris.
as if whispered
by a child’s dream,
magic gardens came flying–
butterfly-winged roses
inside the mothermoonship
of a songforest night
to be an observer
is more than a mere o
pening of the eyes–
you must vanish from the sight
of what you see, become
an immersion, a current
consumed by the between,
inside its invisible
core of light
Brendan at earthweal gave us some photos to work with for our poems this week. I chose the photo above, although the other ones are still on my mind.
I submit most months to Visual Verse, and have had many poems published (thank you!). But some I like better than others. This month’s poem, “Night Journey”, is one of them. You can read it here.
My poem “passages”, written to Jo Zider’s artwork, is also up at The Ekphrastic Review. My thanks to guest editor Sandi Stromberg, and to Lorette C. Luzajic for her continued support. You can read it here.
I think the poems complement each other. Which only highlights how I return to the same themes again and again…
The river has songs to fill every season. I turn with the circles, swimming the wind that chases the water, bending around the curves, following the changes in tempo and depth, bound to the ripples that radiate from every slight disturbance of the surface. Looking for the most efficient path.
I construct imaginary boats and then dismantle them, leaving the remains dashed and forgotten on the farthest shores. The river continues, reflecting the sky’s transformations, a window opening into the changing light.
Stilled, I try to capture the current as it passes by, to fill my pockets with the riddles it holds inside its voice, all the wisdom gathered from its ancient repeated journeys. I want to be cleansed of all the outside forces that try to bind me, to find again the center hidden somewhere inside that keeps escaping my grasp. But I am too far, too long, too hindered by my own noise. I have lost the lines and the point of the contents of my brain.
Let it go the river sings.
Not anything. But.
And this too. What seems.
To be. There. You are.
Brendan’s challenge prompt of rivers at earthweal brought to mind another recent post, consecration, that featured John Haitt’s title song as it’s coda. It, too, included the weekly words from Jane’s Oracle 2 generator.
And of course I can never have too much of John Haitt’s song.
My message from the Oracle.
fools dance naked–
they think they are gods–
earth listens and weeps
K.