music

sunriseset

sunriseset s

Children grow
wings, flying high, far–
in the wake
we wait for
yesterday to catch up with
what they have become

Sunriseset–
the pattern of days
opening
and closing,
the inside of the circle
empties and refills

Repeating
our footsteps, echoed,
mirrored, but
not the same–
the outlines rearranging
beginning to end

Sunriseset–
the pattern of days
opening
and closing,
the inside of the circle
empties and refills

landscape-linda colleen Image by enriquelopezgarre from Pixabay

For Colleen’s #tankaTuesday photo prompt, above, selected by Linda Lee Lyberg. I’ve been looking at the image, trying to decide if it was a sunrise or a sunset in order to focus my words. This made me think of the iconic song from Fiddler on the Roof, “Sunrise Sunset”. Frank’s prompt at dVerse, to compose something in imitation of something else, made me think about trying to capture the essence of the song in a shadorma chain that also reflected the artwork.

Fiddler on the Roof resonates more than ever in these times, when so many are homeless, driven from their literal and spiritual homes by money, politics, war, ignorance, power and greed, when so many are left abandoned, wandering or imprisoned. A world that offers few peoples and places that will welcome refugees and attempt to heal the empty spaces, few places that are not afraid of strangers, of humans who are not exactly like them.

This scene in the play never fails to move me: in dark times, there is still a place to come together in hope, to light a candle, to dream.

An antidote to my poem posted on The Ekprastic Review today.

what you want

what you want s

what you want magnetic

I visited the Geek Oracle for a change of pace, and the birdlings seemed once again appropriate to the message.

what you want bottom s

open this world
this network through which we
become complete

light names each star
while galactic flames stream
out of the living source

what do you want?
create it

what you want top s

windfall

windfall s

windfall magnetic

I haven’t had such an effortless message from the Oracle in a long time. It reminded me of my favorite Sun Volt song, “Windfall”.

And as always, it’s a message I need. Poetry, lyrics, music, song.

“sing”
said time

the storm’s blood is like
wind music

the sky wants us to
light up these rain shadows
with seas of blue stillness

swimming around the moon

Poem up at The Ekphrastic Review

Henry Darger blk s

My untitled response to Henry Darger is among those posted today at the Ekphrastic Review. His work is a rich source for collage as well as words.

darger flower doll s

Natalie Merchant was inspired to produce a haunting song about him.

What do we really know about anyone else? Darger’s work is a testament to how much is always hidden from view. You can read about Henry Darger here.

darger butterfly doll s

And you can read my poem, and all the other responses, here. My thanks to editor Lorette Luzajic for once again including my work in this bi-weekly challenge.

(more) blue

blue ocean grid s

we begin
as vessels, empty,
all this space
waiting to
find the right oceans—ancient
echoes wandering–

all-that-is
transformed into an
azure song,
composed from
whispers of traces—spirals
mirroring the sea

Color BLock Blue Story by Beverly Dyer

A shadorma duo for Colleen’s #TankaTuesday poet’s choice of words. The art inspiration is via Mish at dVerse, who introduced us to artist Beverly Dyer, and asked for an ekphrastic response to one of her paintings. I chose her grid, “Blue Story”, above, and did my own grid to match with pieces of ocean and sky.

The poem was also inspired by Joni Mitchell.

The Stranger

the stranger s

…Stephen Michael West died in the electric chair on Thursday night. Asked if he had any final words, Mr. West said he did. “In the beginning God created man,” he began before breaking down into sobs. Then: “And Jesus wept. That’s all.”
–Margaret Renkl, from “The Hypocrisy of Execution Day”, NY Times, August 20, 2019

Everybody’s talking at me. It’s the same old song. Do Wah Diddy. Ob-la-di, ob-la-da. Knockin on heaven’s door. Iko iko. Thy Kingdom Come.

Does anybody really know what time it is? Does anybody really care? Who knows where the time goes? Every day is a winding road. Where the streets have no name.

Don’t you know I’m only human? I was hungry, just barely alive.

Here comes Mr. Tamborine Man, playing his song for me. I hear a symphony. “You will love again the stranger who was yourself.” “Jesus loves you more than you will know.”

Woe woe woe.

He’s just a soul whose intentions are good: “All you need is love.”

Wouldn’t it be nice.

I gotta get out of this place.

Baby you can follow me down. The burning ring of fire.

Hello Darkness, my old friend.

Fly me to the moon.

Kim at dVerse gave us a phrase from Derek Walcott, “You will love again the stranger who was yourself,” to use in our Prosery this week. I had started something completely different using phrases from mostly 60s songs when I read Margaret Renkl’s op-ed piece in the NY Times this morning.

The art is a Rorschach painting with embroidery (in progress).

I wrote this really quickly this morning, so I’ll probably keep coming back to edit it…