moonshot

focus on the wheel–
bright star calls for the moonshot
embellished with birds

Sanaa at dVerse introduced us to minimalist photography and Glenn A. Buttkus’s site “South Sound Minimalist Photos.” She offered 12 photos to choose to respond to, and I chose the one below.

I couldn’t resist consulting with the collage box oracle, and creating a piece of junk mail art on the back of one of the hundreds of flyers I’ve received in the mail for the NYC primary for mayor. I hope you don’t mind my loose interpretation Glenn!

You can see see more of Glenn’s wonderful photos here.

POPO 2020 part 3

rooted red
the colors spill out
confettied
above ground
dancing towards the sun singing
a chorus of blooms

Last year I participated in POPO the August POetry POstcard Fest–where the challenge is to send a different postcard with a poem you’ve composed for each day in August, 31 in all. I meant to post 2 cards every few weeks and finish up just before POPO 2021. But in my usual fashion, I’m only now posting the third pair.

I decided to do shadormas, as they would fit easily on the back of a postcard, and to connect them through repeating part of the last line of each poem to the first line of the poem for the next day. The last line of the poem from day 4 was “visible, rooted”

a chorus
of absurdity
reaches for
the empty
mind to fill it with visions
of nothing at all

I did not have a theme for the actual postcards I made in 2020, but this year I’m going to continue with the moon photos I did for the Kick-About. You don’t need to make or alter your own postcards, though–at least one I received last year was just a post office postcard with a poem on it. Or you can just buy 3l postcards and write a poem on the front or back or both.

A number of people last year expressed interest in participating this year, so here’s the link if you want to sign up. It’s not only a fun creative challenge, but you end up with 31 interesting postcard poems from all over the United States and the world. Twenty days until registration closes.

https://popo.cards/

And here’s my original post with a photo of some of the postcards I received. They actually trickled in for several months afterwards.

shadow work

arise to witching hour,
the moon eclipsing the sun–
in afterlight crow echoes his own call

gathered clouds, a bower
of reflected light returned,
unwrapping into daylight from its pall

orbits overlapping,
crossing time as well as space–
a hush that parallels the day’s forestall

twin umbras pause, passing–
opposites in brief embrace–
Aurora wakes, released to fly withal

Another kerf poem, for Colleen’s #TankaTuesday, where Gwen Plano has provided the words Dawn & Twilight. My apartment doesn’t face east at all, but the eclipsed sunrise felt very different yesterday, veiled and stilled, and the crows had a lot to say about it.

Another collage from the archives.

By What Means

Sailing in potions.  The aftermath transformed from apparition into gold.  Navigating in the middle of above and below, breath and fire.

How to make a path through the shoreless sea.  How to find what was left behind on its phantom boundaries.

Coiled and enclosed by emotions that have no name.  Entangled in a web of circumstance.

To be alive is always a risk.

Who acknowledges your vulnerabilites?  What are the objects of your devotion?  When will your unknowable secrets be revealed?  Where is the entrance to the far side of the darkest extremity?

Why? and why not?

We too are ensnared, following your edges into a maze of decay.  We are unable to meet your gaze until it’s too late.  We always search for you beyond the point of no return.

All those ghoststones, weighed down by too many betrayals.  The intersection of desire and fear that paralyzes completion.  The piercing shards of the broken mirror.

The spiral grows tighter, less controlled.  The waves isolate and discard.  The horizon is lost, the voices drowned in a desperate merging of man and beast.  Which one remains after the inevitable inferno?

The distance between was always an illusion.

Last month Visual Verse had a very intriguing image, with a serpent like creature, as its ekphrastic prompt. Even before I wrote a response, I wanted to do a visual response as well. You can see the original image and the published responses here.

My prose poem wasn’t chosen for publication, but I finally made my collage and revised the text a bit for Tricia Sankey’s dVerse prompt exploring risk.

moondrunk

I found this painting/collage the other day–I know I’ve used it before, but I thought it would be useful for something else, so I saved it in my ideas space. When I read the Oracle’s message this morning, it seemed like she knew ahead of time where it belonged.

recall the dreamlight
time as a living being
shadows shining through the raw sky

did what you thought
you never needed
show you how

to still the stormcry
into moonships singing
the language of seaforests?

a thousand whispered wings

world weary

you drift along,
along and along,
without wind or sea–
can you see
yourself moving?  or is
everything drifting?  is
it all doldrums,
your mind sailing on doldrums,
on emptiness, what is
no longer there—was
anything ever there?

you long to immerse
yourself, to immerse
your body in the sea,
the primal waters of the sea–
to float and forget, to
dive and immerse
yourself in life’s womb, to
close your eyes, to
shrink, becoming
a stone waiting to
be cast and skipped rippling
back to where you belong—

where do you belong?

you drift along…

Laura at dVerse has us repeating ourselves. Not difficult for me, as my mind likes to travel back and forth and revisit what it has already said before.

oyster shell 4s

My images are also recycled.

dear moon

The prompt for the Kick-About this week is a quote from Murakami’s novel IQ84 where Aomame talks to a cold and silent moon. No one could unlock the heart of the moon, she thinks. She asks the moon some questions: The moon did not answer. But maybe she is only projecting onto the moon a reflection of herself.

keeping her motives
to herself, she likes to move
beyond the in between

going where after is before
all over again

I’m always photographing the moon. I decided to go through my archives and make some postcards from some of my pictures. The results proved to me, once again, that if you take enough photos, some are bound to look good.

I then consulted with the collage box Oracle. The Oracle knows the moon well.

what time is it inside
your dreams?  step through, not around–
inside the journey
is your destination–
no other place but right now

I didn’t plan it that way, but the sequence of photographic messages from the Oracle were easily constructed into a series of Japanese-style poems.

flow into the light
by exploring the patterns
of the universe

You can’t just ask questions; you also need to keep listening for the reply.

nevertheless

The Oracle was obviously missing the birdlings.

ghosts linger as dark stars
dazzled holes of lost time

ask the angels how to remember
flying the sky
melting color like sacred fire
dancing with air

if we sail our breath
with wild naked eyes
vast and opened into listening

who will we become?

Also linking to earthweal open link weekend.

if the circle opens, will it become a line? (#2)

The Oracle’s message today reminded me of a collage I had done awhile ago. When I found it, I stole the title as well as the image. You can read the original here.

if I can remember
the color of myself
insideout

naked    foolish    magic

will my broken breath open
and ask for the air I need
to see voices
sailing on a vast listening
of oceans surrounded
with life’s slow sacred rhythm?

As usual, the answers are elusive.