that picture in your mind–
where does it go?
inside the mirror
the memory projects
the future looking at the past–
that picture in your mind,
that dislocation of now,
that reversal of an ending–
where does it go?
who will reap
what was shown
inside the mirror?
For Jane Dougherty’s Words and Pictures poetry challenge, above, a painting entitled Moscow Metro by Michael E. Arth. She suggested a cascade poem.
As my collage box is fairly bare in my new location, I had no children to incorporate into my collage. I improvised with a Michelangelo sculpture from a reference book I bought at a library book sale, and cut outs from the New York Times, which comes to my door, if irregularly, these days.
Still enamored with shadows, I photographed it first with my plant shadows on top.
I consulted the Oracle while considering Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above. This morning I was up as the sun was rising and even though there are no trees nearby I could hear the birds waking the day as they do every spring. It was a welcome sound.
I did a lot of fiddling myself with the art–first I painted a soft background, and then I did some more intense stripes on a separate piece of paper. I cut those up and tried a number of arrangements. It wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I started, but satisfying nonetheless.
as morning returns
light fiddles with sky
mist, the thousand green forest
languages, blue wind
whispers of pink moon gardens–
dream shadows swimming through time
where time meets
upon what? faded backdrops
absorb the opening when
shadowed by the hand–
narratives—so small and so
incompletely, barely, cast
For dVerse, Frank asked us to compose a poem ending with a couplet.
we do not
what will be
should be un
known, a mystery, like night
skies, like orbiting—
if we hold
the stars, the cosmos,
awe, we have
already seen both the be
ginning and the end
A shadorma chain for Colleen’s tanka Tuesday. The theme, picked by Sally Cronin, is the night sky.
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.
blossoms fill the sky
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.
my dream is magic rising
my dream calls spirits
wishes joined to starry wings
wings singing songs into the air
the spirits dance their circles through the portals of the clouds
we are but voices sailing
the ancient shores of secret galaxies
A quadrille for dVerse where Linda asks us to think about magic. My quadrille is a cento, composed of lines from poems that pop up at my blog with my friend Nina, MethodTwoMadness, when I search “magic”. I did have to add one word to bring the total number of words to 44, but otherwise the art, the title, and all the lines are taken from my old poems.
Obviously it’s a subject I consider frequently.