the great beyond

I consulted the Oracle this morning while thinking about Colleen’s #TankaTuesday theme chosen by Merril, immortality. I was surprised when I went to post it how it follows the Oracle’s message from last week–beyond to the great beyond. Although I am consumed, one might even say overwhelmed, by my moving tasks, as long as my computer is still assembled I will continue speaking with the Oracle on Saturdays.

black as death
we say—but what lies
whispering
like wind like
skyshadow singing through blue
lightdreams and still seas?

remember
the rhythm dancing
dazzled with
starsisters–
embrace the open window–
vast secrets flying

fractals (part 2)

the geography of water
parallels and reconfigures
the complexity of the heart–
light, a fissured mirror, reflects
memories in recurrent waves–
the complexity of the heart
parallels and reconfigures
the geography of water

the-silver-well-3

For Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday poet’s choice this week I’ve written an octo poem which is a revision of a poem I published four years ago for Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, spring, above. You can see the original post here (a shadorma, of course). What’s interesting to me is how wildly different my painting is from the photo.

Also, though I like the way this painting looks, I never followed up and did any more with the idea. I need my gouache which is in storage, but it’s got me thinking. Perhaps to be continued.

Fractals can’t be measured in traditional ways. And so it is with springs, memories, and hearts.

unmoored

suddenly you open,
falling back into what
was ere, senses bare, taut,
returned, stepped through–

like dusk that silences
the sun, rooted in deep
layers of shadowed sleep,
awaiting night–

the point of transfer is
never clear—the threshold
disappears—uncontrolled,
adrift and lost–

each moment lingers too
long—endings shrink, tied fast
to darkness, floating past
what can’t be seen–

hints of color, mirage
of movement just beyond–
all sense of distance gone–
who owns this fate?

For Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above, and Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday, an abhanga using synonyms for loose and tight.

Appellations

Will you reply when called?
What is your name?  The sky
refuses to say why
you hold the tree.

Why have you conscripted
this perch among the dead?
Abide with me instead
amidst the green.

Have my ghosts entrusted
your wings with messages–
voices of presages
destined for me?

Immovable, silent,
a silhouette distilled–
I seek but am unfilled–
inside stripped clean.

For Sue Vincent’s photo prompt above, and Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday, where she has introduced the poetic form Abhanga. I like it, but I think I need to experiment more with it to get the rhythm right.

Also linking to earthweal Open Link Weekend.

As you may know, Crow and I are old friends.

Currents

How far, how
long?  Is forgotten
gone?  Today
can stretch out
ahead and behind towards both
retreat and escape.

Form has no
real boundaries—light
shifts, guarding
waves wielded
in ways we misunderstand
and fail to protect.

Things change when
we try to measure
them—they be
come contained,
finite, solid, orderly–
ordinary—fixed.

A shadorma chain for Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above, and Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday words past and present.

Even changing the orientation of an image reconfigures how you see it.

Additional inspiration courtesy of Marcy Erb and Tom Waits.

resounding

bells
answer
each other
ringing over
and over as they
tangle with the wind, spin
sailing into echoed waves–
voices patterning the air with
streaming currents, orbed layers of song

A reverse nonet for Colleen’s #TankaTuesday words, mingle and drift.

I had an idea for the art and I did a few different versions with ink and watercolor on rice paper. Although none are exactly what I had in mind, they all have aspects I like.

Also linking to dVerse OLN.

and as a bonus two very different versions of The Carol of the Bells

Tossed Between What Is Not

I open my eyes to
solitary mornings–
no clear signs or warnings
of what comes next.

I can’t travel through time
when days seem to be
horizonless—empty,
lost in details.

What is important can
never be known until
it is gone—and we fill
the unseen with

repetition as we
continue—hoping then
hiding—wondering when
we will move on.

I formulate questions
that have no proper place–
the answers hesitate–
waiting.  Waiting.

For Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday, poet’s choice. I decided to try a new form from The Poet’s Collective index of Syllabic Poetry Forms. This one is call abhanga, an Indian poetic form that has a 6/6/6/4 syllable count with a rhyme on the middle two lines.

It seems easy, but it was not, at least for me. I also wasn’t sure what I was writing about, but in the end, it seems to summarize 2020 for me. The art was an exercise I saw to do a shadow doll. That also seems appropriate for this strange year.

beyond dawn

I was thinking about the painting I did yesterday when I consulted the Oracle this morning. A shadorma for Colleen’s #tankatuesday. Sue Vincent provided the inspiration with her haiku, below.

clouds cover the moon,
beyond dawn’s pale horizon
sun rises unseen

haiku ©2020 Sue Vincent

sky of still
water—open me
to borning,
this healing
breath that listens to stars be
tween morning and night

transfiguration

she spins
a new cocoon…
wings folded, form fading,
reflecting back as ghost shadows
–enter–
the dark circle of the forest
moves ever closer as
time compresses
–itself–
quiescent…what
is done is done…what will
emerge as the continuum
–expands–
unbounded, uncharted, starborne
she waits…her elements
recombined as
essence

I used the (repeated) butterfly cinquain form because Diana Peach’s #photoprompt illustration, above, for Colleen’s #TankaTuesday, made me think immediately of a butterfly/cocoon.

For the artwork I did a painting inspired by the illustration and then fooled around with it in Photoshop to try to convey a feeling of metamorphosis.

Veterans Day NYC 2020

salutes spaced
between vehicles–
ghostboots march
silently
in formation—echos caught
in mind’s eye–the tears

As with seemingly every celebration in 2020, the Veteran’s Day parade today here in NYC was largely symbolic–“a caravan of 100 vehicles with no spectators”–a shadow of the usual ceremony of 20-30,000 participants.

For Colleen’s #Tanka Tuesday where the words are imagine and gratitude, and Peter Frankis’ prompt at dVerse, where the task is to write about something from the local news (https://www.usnews.com/news/best-states/new-york/articles/2020-11-11/car-caravan-replaces-parade-at-nyc-veterans-day-observance)