aquatic

aquatic comp

aquatic magnetic s

The Oracle gave me another delirious vision.  With moons of course.  The sun shadowing on my floor when I went to take the photos of my mandala added another dimension.

aquatic close up s

sleep away stormy seas–
beneath dreams whisper moons
shining bare like the winds
of roses blown into blue mist

where is the purple lake
of shadow sky?

show me the language of water
swimming through light

 

summoning

summoning s

songs rising, the path becomes
a spiral intersecting
the surface of forgotten
dreams, the edge of the held breath
which abides in all places,
a luminescence engraved
on the far side of the light

A sevens poem (via Jane Dougherty) for Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above.  Once again, even as I am constrained by what images I find in my collage box, they manage to take me somewhere I would not have found on my own.

summoning close up s

Also linked to OLN on dVerse, hosted by Lillian.

 

Hunters Moon

hunters moon s

I stand at my back window near midnight. The night is cloudy, but still I’m hoping to catch a glimpse of the full October Hunter’s Moon.

I will not be using its light to search for my winter’s food store. So what am I seeking?  What will nourish me in the coming months of short days and long nights?

tell me what I see–
moon appears complete, sudden,
clouds glowing colors

wings against golden black
catch omens, rise, then fly

hunters moon close up 2s

Every two weeks The Ekphrastic Review has a writing challenge.  I usually enter, and always plan to do a collage for the selected work and publish my poem, even if it isn’t chosen.  Of course I don’t actually often have the time.  But Jane Dougherty’s repetition of Dale Patterson’s artwork, with 3 of her poems, spurred me to do my collage and revise my poem, which I wasn’t satisfied with.  It fit right into Frank Tassone’s “Hunter’s Moon” prompt.  Were you lucky enough to see it?

hunters moon close up s

You can see Jane’s poems here.  And those selected by guest editor Jordan Trethewey, at The Ekphrastic Review, here.

indigenous

indigenous comp

I am nowhere indigenous.  Born in the midwestern United States, I have moved through many other regions.  My genetics are blended and confused, my blood relations scattered.  Even within the city I have called home for 45 years I belong to no single neighborhood.  No land or culture claims me as their own.

accumulating
roots of tangled earth and air
unfixed, wandering—

I occupy each season
refilled, resampled, revived

indigenous close up s

For Frank’s haibun prompt at dVerse, considering our relationship to the word indigenous, as we celebrate both Columbus Day and the native peoples who inhabited this land long before Columbus discovered it.

!!!

trump compt

Pop goes the weasel
goes the world out
the world reeking of
weasel out of it

I missed the window for the dVerse Pop Art prompt from Victoria last week, but I had an idea for it and I wanted to follow through.  I also wanted to try a Lewis Carroll Square Poem, which I saw on Paul’s Poetry Playground recently.  My attempt is far from perfect, but it’s a start, and the fact that it doesn’t completely make sense seems appropriate.

I don’t agree with the designation for the most of the artists Victoria found that were listed as pop artists (Kurt Schwitters?  Jasper Johns? Rauschenberg? has the person who made that list looked at their art?) but Andy Warhol certainly falls into that category.  My digital art, above, is inspired by his work.  I used to dismiss him, but his art is wider and deeper than just the soup cans or iconic repeated images.  And all his imitators prove that it’s harder to do than it looks.

He did not have Photoshop either.