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”?

Lavendar Moon

lavendar moon s

we are try
-ing to breathe, desperate
for clean air
uninfect
-ed by greed, ego, exploit
-ation, pollution

the moon does
not belong to you–
she belongs
to the night
sky, the cycle of light re
-turning from the dark

she dances
vast elemental
orbits to
time centered
beyond your indifference, your
vainglory, your lies

full lavendar moon s

For the NaPoWriMo day 7 prompt, a poem based on a news article.  You can find the news story I used here.  I took the photo, above, out my window at dusk last night.

DSC07196

The art is inspired once again by Matisse.  And Los Lobos, with a great video rendition of Kiko.

napo2020button1-1

star light star bright

the star tarot s

raise me up
with words with singing
shout me out
pull me free
of the faceless gravity
escapeless vortex

return me
to a calmer sea
gentle winds
to nourish
star skies opening wing-filled
luminosity

give to me
a landing some place
solid ground
to answer
when I call from where I wait
undestinated

the star girl s

I once had an idea to do my own set of collage Tarot cards.  I started with zero, The Fool, which I’ve done a number of times since.  Over the years I’ve also done a few others–The Tower, the Ace of Cups.  This moment in time seems to me to call out for The Star, the beacon of renewal, hope, and faith that follows the disintegrating Tower in the Tarot deck.

the star venus s

My windows face east, and in the clear early mornings I can see Venus.  The other day, next to her, the half moon shone large and bright over the silhouettes of the buildings across the subway tracks, both anchor and comfort in a world increasingly restricted and isolated.

Linked to dVerse OLN, hosted by Grace.

penumbral

penumbral s

almost a shadow
almost an echo between
vast uncertainties

hidden voices wandering
the uncharted borderlines

This year’s Wolf Moon comes with a penumbral eclipse.  For Frank Tassone’s #Haikai Challenge #120, and also linked to OLN on dVerse, hosted by Grace.

penumbral close up s

This is a watercolor with a moon photo collaged on top.

I’m going to be absent from posting for awhile, though I will try to check in with what everyone’s doing.  I’m moving into a small temporary space, putting most of my stuff in storage, and hoping to move into a permanent home before 2020 is through.  I won’t have a drawing table and not sure how many supplies will fit into the space, but I’ll be back to doing more work of some kind as soon as I can.

all directions lead to the center

all directions 2s

Like the moon, I am an echo, repeating
the gravities of my orbit–
anchored inside by both light and dark,
circling me, refacing me

The gravities of my orbit
give me direction but not location–
circling me, refacing me,
scattering my stardust into the void

Given direction but not location,
like Janus, I am always between–
scattering my stardust into the void
with no before or after

Like Janus I am always between–
I am not looking for eternity
with no before or after,
life is always right here and right now

I am not looking for eternity
to position me in a narrative–
life is always right here and right now–
its beginning and end are unknowable

I am positioned in a narrative
of patterns I don’t understand–
its beginning and end are unknowable–
I dream of circumvention

Following patterns I don’t understand,
anchored inside by both light and dark,
I dream of circumvention–
like the moon I am an echo, repeating

all directions 2 close up s

 

My second pantoum for the dVerse theme of echo.

all directions 1 close up s

More art from the archive.  Still going in mystifying circles.

all directions 1s

 

Poem up at The Ekphrastic Review

hallowed be s

My poem “Hallowed Be” is among the responses to Goya’s “El Conjuro” posted today at The Ekphrastic Review.

hallowed be top s

As it’s Draw a Bird Day, I’ve enlisted the newly returned birdlings for my collage response (along with some actual birds and the moon).

hallowed be bottom s

You can see Goya’s painting and 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