Falling

 

We pretend
to own what we claim–
plant our flags
build fences
carry weapons in our hands–
exchange life for gold.

Do we think
we can circumscribe
the secrets
of the moon
with a padlock and a key?
We just keep falling

like black holes–
misunderstanding
reflected
light—the ebb
and flow of seas and seasons–
uncapturable.

Lillian at dVerse provided 4 images from artist Catrin Welz-Stein and asked us to choose one as ekphrastic inspiration.  I chose the image below.

I’ve taken a few liberties with my interpretation.  The collage box always has something to tell me.

turning the crossroads

Feet to the stars, and moon-skulled,
–Sylvia Plath, “You’re”

feet to the stars
two places at once
and moon-skulled–
who will ride the ghost horse?

two places at once
floating on nothing–
who will ride the ghost horse,
the pulse of here and now?

floating on nothing
above the bones of the landscape–
the pulse of here and now
on every breath–

above the bones of the landscape,
casting the spirit away
on every breath–
sojourners through the dark,

casting the spirit away,
spiraled like serpents–
sojourners through the dark,
upside down, reversed,

spiraling like serpents
and moon-skulled–
upside down, reversed–
feet to the stars

This is what I was trying to post when I realized they had switched me to the block editor and I could not figure out how to add an image.  I actually did finally figure it out, but I still dislike it and find all the extra steps necessary to put a post together annoying. I am glad to still be able to do things the simple and direct way through WP Admin.

Jade, at dVerse, posted in Poetics about clowns and their many manifestations.  She gave us a choice of using clown in our poem, or using a line from one of the three poems she provided for illustration. I chose the Plath line quoted above–could I resist the word “moon-skulled”?

Time Has Come Today

time won't let me cosmic s

You can sometimes combine the beginning with the end.  But take care. The interplay must never be rippled—look for translucence, a changing density that mirrors the journey of the stars.  Listen, then turn around.  Threaded into the horizon you will sometimes find the edges.  Two of nothing will show you the way.

The clock invited me into its worn house, where twice a day there was a meeting place that balanced on the verge of departure.  Forward or backward?  I became lost in the movement, spinning around into all directions, endlessly lost inside each new location.

If I had found the common denominator…if I had been able to reconfigure what was left behind…if I could have traveled in tandem with the shadows…but if is not when.  It is over, said and done.

It was a time and there was never enough of it.

time won't let me white

For Prosery Monday at dVerse, Merril gave us a quote from Allison Adelle Hedge Coke: when it is over said and done/it was a time/and there was never enough of it.  I ended up writing with a stream of consciousness hangover.

For my art, I took an old collage and superimposed it on a newish painting in Photoshop.  As soon as I read the quote I thought immediately of this song.

 

 

Fore and Aft

moondrunk close up s

Sea, moon, sails–
are words a story?
Wonder.  Where.
The journey
ends.  Compassed and jibed.  Adrift
and dreaming.  Betides.

the moon is dreaming s

 

A shadorma for Colleen’s #tanka Tuesday, using synonyms for circled and squared, and for Sarah at dVerse who asks us to consider boats.

reverie close up s

Once again I’ve dipped into my art archives for the illustrations.

on a clear night the moon shines full into my window

august moon jupiter s

Jupiter swimming
in the wake of August moon–
clouds whisper sky sea

memories of ocean blue tides
rising almost full at dusk

august moon blue s2

Jupiter is really bright in the night sky these days.  A few days ago it moved right above the moon across the sky.  The night before that the moon rose luminous in the blue dusk.

august moon yellow s

Last night it was a beautiful gold, but my close up turned it white.

august moon white s

For Frank Tassone #haikai challenge, Sturgeon moon, and Peter Frankis at dVerse, looking out the window.

august moon city s

 

holiday

i have a dream s

The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy.
–Martin Luther King, Jr.

You would think if you shared a birthday with someone whose date of birth merits a national holiday, people would remember.  But the actual date of my own birth is still a constant confusion to many of my family and friends. (I know it’s in January…what day again?)

Maybe it’s the moving of all holidays in the U.S. to Mondays, so everyone can enjoy a long weekend.  No need to acknowledge why their employer or school is giving them a day off—the real reason for holidays is to have 3 days off in a row with no work, right?

mid-January–
voice of crow under grey skies–
how to fill the hole

mlk-2017-s

Kim at dVerse prompted us to talk about our birthday.

around repeatedly

around repeatedly s

Wherein lies the origin of mystery?
Does any story have an ending
and can any name the place
where all stories begin?

All stories are branches
of The One Story, a circle
retreating and returning
reversing and rewinding
retracing and redirecting
repeating and renewing.
Each sentence orbits and spirals
inside and out again.

Where is the place between
before and after?  Is there
even a way to find
the location of no before?

around close up s

I spiraled off a bit myself from the dVerse prompt from Merril, revolution.  Blame it on the heat.

 

reversal

reversal 3s

to recur,
move further away–
becoming
mote covered
constellated skies, stories
embroidered in blue

darkness fades
into emergence–
the tides of
return shaped
by manifestations of
ghost ships left unsailed

indigo
currents bridged between
symbol and
spirit—each
helix twisted round itself–
doubled, multiplied

reversal 2s

For dVerse, a blue quadrille, hosted by Kim.  The art is composed of two different painting experiments that accidentally fell on top of each other–I photographed them in a bunch of different ways, and added the blue with Photoshop.

reversal 1s

thought for the day

postcard 15s

wish for bird gardens
your mind will grow feathers
float through air surprised

Another one of my postcard collaborations with the collage box Oracle.  This one was done on a postcard  of Monet’s “Peace Under the Lilac Bush”

I’ve been reading a book about Monet’s water lilies.  He didn’t start those monumental paintings until he was in his 70s, and worked on them throughout the years of World War I, refusing to evacuate from his beloved home and gardens at Giverny.  I haven’t quite reached that age yet, so I guess there’s still time for a creative endeavor or two for me as well.

linked to dVerse OLN, hosted by Bjorn