that which is not

night has no dimension, open
to every wandering
walls dissolve between now and then–
time sails a yondering


is it possible to exit
when there’s nowhere to go?–
narratives engulf you, cosmic
tides that whisper: hello–
join us

The NaPoWriMo prompt today was to “pick a poem you drafted earlier in the month and write a poem that contradicts or troubles it”. I chose “Who Is”, here

The collages above were first published in The Time Issue of the journal Feral last April.

Day 30. I made it.

I Ask Emily Some Questions

…not that I can tell the difference
between an instant and a moment–
What is, exactly, the fundamental unit
of time?  Is it a pause, or is it a question
of how the equation’s processes
are organized?  Where is the boundary
between thriving and decay?  When
do cobwebs begin to appear
in the corners of the mind?  Does
the soul, too, become dust, or
is it like zero, pivoting on an axis
that has no location?  Is time
elemental like earth, like fire?
Can it fall into ruin? –or is it
integral to the devil’s work, a way
of placing things on a line, consecutive
and immutable?  Is slow really
opposite to fast, or, in fact, only
a different way of measuring?–and
where exactly is an instant to be
found?  Can it be held in place, or
does it have no material form, no
law to explain it, no real identity at all?

The NaPoWriMo prompt today was to make your own poem from an Emily Dickinson poem. I chose Crumbling is not an instant’s Act (1010). I went through and selected words and, using them in order, wrote my own poem around them. This is a method I often employ, using words from all kinds of sources. Emily is a good source.

For some reason what I wrote reminded me of Dylan’s Love Minus Zero/No Limit. OK, I did kind of borrow “like ice, like fire”. Here’s my favorite version, by Joan Baez.

keeping time

My message today from the Oracle. I’ve been thinking a lot about time. It gets more confusing every day.

each moment is filled
with more asking

if never comes,
will we find out
where we belong?

in dreams
spirit dances between
language and music–
stars growing wings
inside your heart

The Oracle also seems attuned to the collage book I’ve been working on lately.

Art in “The Time Issue” of Feral

Four of my word collages are featured in The Time Issue of the Journal Feral. You can see them here.

My thanks to editor Beth Gordon, and her team Narmadhaa and Amanda McLeod, for featuring my work.

The above collage is from my response to the Kick-About prompt of the work of Saul Bass.
If you follow fate far away to the return of time, understand that the passage into prophecy and myth is final

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.