“Oh, where have you been, my blue-eyed son?” “To market, to market, to buy a big gun.”
we confuse omniscience and ignorance, redundant in our habitual failure to protect
we collect wealth, polluted with jealousy, smothered in waste—we admire and support incompetence, greed
we spend time staring at our screens– glowing with apathy, motionless, a shadow of imminent demise
Jane Dougherty posted some randomly generated words this morning for us to use to make a poem. After seeing “blue-eyed” I could not get Dylan’s song out of my head, and the word “market” provided the reply, mirroring both the news and my continued distress about it.
I struggled to go somewhere else, but ended up with the above depressing and not-very-poetic shadorma chain.
Dylan (as always) says it much better than I.
I’ve stepped in the middle of seven sad forests I’ve been out in front of a dozen dead oceans I’ve been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard And it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard, and it’s a hard It’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall
I had just finished this monostich postcard when I saw Ingrid’s prompt at dVerse for a poem about a member of the Corvid family. I’ve written drawn painted and collaged many times about crow–not just here, but on memadtwo as well.
My word collage postcards are not always monostich, but many of them are.
That’s an old one, above, entitled, “Crow Says…”, inspired by Van Gogh.
And here’s a recent one done in Poetry Partnership with David, at The Skeptic’s Kaddish. This one is an American Sentence.
the glass falls shattered by the wind the water rises to the trees the heavens cry that we have sinned approach the ending on your knees
the water rises to the trees the air in spirals bends the sky approach the ending on your knees you’ve passed the time for asking why
the air in spirals bends the sky a wild revolving cosmic hole you’ve passed the time for asking why you must surrender all control
A wild revolving cosmic hole the heavens cry that we have sinned you must surrender all control– the glass falls shattered by the wind
In his discussion this week at earthweal of extremes, Brendan specifically mentions unrelenting storms and hurricanes as part of the new weather patterns brought on by climate change. When I looked up the damage and death from hurricanes in The United States and the Caribbean the last 50 years, since Agnes in 1972, it was hard not to be stunned by the continued lackadaisical response of our government to the obvious magnification of severe weather. Band-aids for situations that require surgery.
why wait for now to pass? always living in to be— tomorrow is not where we are, ever
each minute, hour, a chance encounter we can’t foresee full of spans impossible to measure
where am I? here and now and no place else—out or in, over or under, it doesn’t matter
each fragment itself whole– each moment contained within the present completeness of forever
I haven’t written a kerf poem in awhile. The W3 prompt this week, a response to Burden of Time by A. J. Wilson, also has the restrictions of 12 lines or less, and the use of the word fragment. The kerf, a 12-line poem, was just right. You can read A. J. Wilson’s poem here.
Illustrations are two variations on the seed of life motif.
moon appears as reflection– sun mirrored into night but brighter, closer
and how far is far away?– forever, sometimes, as if never were always the answer to the question of when
third eye digs deeper, dreamclosing the distance, the interval between asleep and wings
It was cloudy when the moon was eclipsing last night, but later on it cleared into mist, and woke me up, as it is wont to do–the top photo is how it looked through my bedroom window about 3am. And above is a close up. The mist allowed me to get some detail–when it’s very clear all that shows up in photos is an intense light.
A quadrille using the word sleep for Sarah at dVerse. I’ve borrowed the dual title idea from David at The Skeptic’s Kaddish–I ran across the word avigation (it means aerial navigation) recently, and I’ve been wanting to use it for something ever since.