faster and faster
the wheel spins, gathering all
into one huge dance
This was my submissions for the Kick-About prompt, “a short ride in a fast machine“. Since I was offline at the time, I didn’t get to publish my post for it then.
These pandemic days seem timeless yet I also feel that they are spinning out of control.
May we gather together to give the dance a form that includes a good future for all.
the always of after
leaves why to wither
lonely without root
or vine
how can never become
when?
who seeds the birdwind?
ask this quiet deep light
growing into moonsong
The Oracle was full of questions today. As are we all.
can moonlight tumble?
reflections transformed by waves–
diamonds in the foam
moonlight tumbles–
reflections transformed–
diamond foam
moon
light
foam
For Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday where the theme, chosen by Franci Hoffman, is the night sky. I did not get to the beach this year, but I’m remembering the magic of past summer nights by the ocean.
And once again using art from the archives.
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.
life spills out
into uncontrolled
spaces—still
mystery,
still yearning for parallel
growth, revelation—
who and where
do we think we are?
tiny ex
plosions look
ing for intersecting lines
that collide and cross,
waving brains
tides hands energy
electric
magnetic–
mapping the unseen
with disturbances,
promises
of what could have been–
had lighyears
been compressed
into overlapping sounds—each
a mirrored reply
Marcy Erb’s prompt for the Kick-About #11 was the planet Trappist 1e, an earth-sized planet orbiting the Trappist-1 dwarf star 40 light years from Earth. What makes it special? Scientists believe it is potentially habitable.
But not the entire planet–“there would be only a sliver of habitability”–as the planet does not itself rotate–one side is always facing towards the sun, and the other side is always in darkness. The habitable area is called the teminator line, or in more familiar terms, the twilight zone, as it is always stranded between the darkness and the light.
The idea of a sliver of habitability seems relevant to the current situation on earth–the balance of the ecosystem is delicate, and we are narrowing that sliver day by day. My two mandalas represent my idea of Trappist 1e and the waves of exploration and communication we are sending out in the hopes of finding another blue and green island in the vast dark cosmic sea.
gather well
in preparation
for winter
give good thanks
harvest the sharing
nature’s gifts
day then night
opposite equal
complete whole
wheel turning
the waning of light
enfolding
I’ve borrowed this birdlings collage from the archives to illustrate Frank Tassone’s #Haikai Challenge this week, autumn/spring equinox.
I haven’t seen the birdlings since my previous move–they may be in storage. But they are always here in spirit.
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”?
My poem, Our Lady of Scarlet, based on a painting of Marchesa di Casati, by Augustus John, is posted today on The Ekphrastic Review, along with Jane Dougherty and other writers. I did not look up the Marchesa until after I had written my poem, but I think the artist captured the essence of her life in his portrait. What I saw without knowing the facts seems very close to the truth.
You can read my poem here.
My thanks once again to editor Lorette C. Luzajic for supporting my work and the interaction between the visual and written arts.
I was told by several people I could post the old way by going to WP Admin–and it works. I will still be absent for awhile as I am entering the final stages of moving–I’m packing up my computer today. But I’ll be back before the end of September.
gathered in
like harmony
spilling out
like wings
like harmony
a stillness
like wings
unfolding
in stillness
each chord
unfolding
the world
each chord
filling
the world
with song
filling
the edges
with song
reaching
the edges
uncontained
reaching
the invisible
uncontained
singing
the invisible
to eternity
singing
beyond reason
to infinity
all needs
beyond reason
spilling out
all needs met
and gathered in
An unrhymed pantoum for Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above.
For Frank Tassone’s #haikai challenge 151, autumn storm/darkness. I wanted a much gentler vision, but the Oracle was having no part of it.
delirious sleep
pounding its raw grey stormchant
wind language dreaming
mad with shadows whispering
in a momentary light
