Dawn

Early pale-pink dawn
egret rests at water’s edge
in shut-eyed prayer perhaps
contemplating pleasures
of inviolate freedom.
Of a sudden, flinging
white wings wide-open
he soars into the freshness
of a flawless new beginning.

Photo: Graham Owen

Over at dVerse Poetics, Brian Miller invites us to write a poems using random words offered by a friend or chosen from pages of a book. I chose mine from the poetry of Mary Oliver. I cannot get enough of her work.

The words I happened upon: Nouns–pleasures, egret; Verbs–fly, fling; Adjectives–pale-pink, unviolated; Random–prayer, edge. This is a wonderfully creative prompt. I hope you will join us! They fit a scenario I witnessed this morning!

The Summer of 1948

The Summer of 1948

Photo Credit: Floyd Bariscale/Google Images

I perch in my pepper tree.
Pungent scents, fingered
leaves embrace me.
A lady bug, dressed in red
with black polka dots
climbs my arm, tickles.

Ocean sand, white as the rind
of a watermelon, clings to my
bare toes.
Only hours ago I ran through it,
reaching out, stretching to catch
sapphires.

The smell of hot concrete
dampened by rain showers
lingers along with DDT
sprayed from a can with a
plunger like a bicycle pump.

I slip down the gnarly trunk,
enter the house by the
screen door near the
Bendix with the ringer where
Mama found a black widow
yesterday.

She’s melting a blue cube
of laundry starch
in hot water.

“Did you know I’m four
and a half today?”
I ask. She nods, smiles.
The black fan whirrs
in the background.

“Go on over to Stewie’s,” she says.
“It’s almost time for
Kukla, Fran and Ollie.”

Cross-legged on the floor
I watch the 12” screen,

Understand I am.

Fun his-tory/her-story prompt today at dVerse,  offered by Brian Miller. This is a really old one about a time way back when.  Hope you are able to read…Google Chrome users (only) are getting weird messages. I have no idea how to correct.

Coexist–dVerse Poetics

outside the window
branches of the maple
stir in autumn’s breath

emerald green and forest
cache vermillion leaves
complement each other

differences delight
need not disdain

Today at dVerse Poetics, Brian Miller asks us to consider bumper stickers. I’m not a bumper sticker person, although I hold strong-enough opinions on certain topics. I prefer to consider the wisdom of Native American Spirituality that invites us to honor each person’s Sacred Point of View. I have found richness in many belief systems and that has only served to nourish my own.

 I hope you will take time to stop by the pub at dVerse http://dversepoets.com  to enjoy the company of fellow poets and their take on this theme.

The Cloud of Unknowing–dVerse Poetics

Image by emdot via Flickr

The Cloud of Unknowing

Who covered our valley with layers of gauzy fog?
Before me, another car edges forward.
I follow dim tail lights, hoping that somewhere ahead
another leads the tentative parade.

Last week, a mountain spanned the landscape
on the lower third of earth’s canvas.
A two-lane highway wove its way through
rabbit brush, tumble weeds tumbled. Snakes slithered.

Today I see only dim tail lights, hoping that
tomorrow I will come home.

The Cloud of Unknowing is a spiritual treatise by an anonymous medieval mystic. It advises the follower that God cannot be understood through knowledge, but rather through contemplation. Oftentimes those who live in faith have to endure prolonged periods of doubt. Having spent time in California’s Central Valley and on the coast, I always found Tule Fog and coastal fog to be an apt metaphor for life’s journey at times like this.

Today at dVerse Poet’s Pub, Brian Miller asks us to see that which cannot be seen except through the third eye. Check it out at http://dversepoets.com/

thirteen ways of looking at shoes

Image via Wikipedia

thirteen ways of looking at shoes

i
shoes carry the world’s burdens.
in our time
few decisions that affect us all
are made by barefoot people.

ii
some people are like shoes.
you put them on
they fit
you smile.

iii
other people, like shoes,
can press you
hurt you
make you whimper.

iv
it’s not wise
to purchase shoes
on the Internet.
try them on first.
same with people.

v
some people
have many pairs of shoes.
others, only a few.
what’s important
is that they give you comfort.
friends are like that, too.

vi
as people age
they look for comfort
in a pair of shoes
and in their mate.

vii
when shoes wear out
on the inside
they are useless.
you should throw them away
even if, on the outside
they look fine.
when people wear out
on the outside
too often we throw them away
even though, on the inside,
they are beautiful.

viii
old people
may not wear
sexy shoes.
that doesn’t mean
they are not
on the prowl.

ix
people wear
different kinds of shoes
for different kinds of activities.
if you try to run
in 5” heels
you will fall.
if you try to tango
in steel-toed boots
you will step
on your partner.
resilience is a key indicator
of success.

x
shoes come in all colors
and sizes:
black
brown
yellow
white
red
big
small
wide
narrow.
diversity offers more choices.
that’s a good thing.

xi
if your shoes are too big
you may stumble.
if you are too big for your shoes
you will crash.

xii
shoes have their own
stories to tell.
they protect us
on our journey through life.
choose them with care.

xiii
don’t be afraid
to go barefoot
from time-to-time.
your shoes won’t mind.
touch Earth Mother
honor her
with your gratitude.

Inspired by Brian Miller’s prompt at dVerse Poets’ Pub: http://diversepoets.com after a style developed by Wallace Stevens.

thirteen ways of looking at trees

Image: The Art of Alison Jardine

i
trees know
to bend with the wind
otherwise they will snap.

ii
in the winter
trees seem to die
that is when
they send down roots
a lot happens
beneath the surface

iii
some people are like trees
they reach out
comfort
provide food
shelter
beauty

iv
others
like some trees
are invasive they
choke
stifle
lesser life forms

v
trees
like some people
survive
without a lot of attention
nature provides
water
food
sometimes if they are weak
they need support
now and again
you have to prune
dead branches

vi
if you plant a tree
you are responsible for it
make sure you choose
with care
it like adopting
a child or
a pet
due diligence is needed
before you commit

vii
everyone should have
a special tree
to hold in memory
a place to go
when you are
afraid
tired
lonely
in that way
a tree is like
a mother’s lap

viii
once you put down roots
you will grow
if you become at one
with your place in life

ix
learn from trees
even though they have differences
they are all trees
they belong together

x
trees are like families
sometimes
they have to give way
to make room
for one another

xi
even though trees
come in many different colors
they are still trees
contrast makes them
stand out
outstanding

xii
when you puncture
a tree’s trunk
with nails
it will bleed
when you puncture
another’s heart
with words
it too will bleed

xiii
in time trees
like people
will die
to make room
for new life.

I’m linking this poem to One Shot Wednesday at One Stop Poetry: http://onestoppoetry.com  The inspiration came from a prompt posted by Brian Miller on that same website for Friday Poetically. It is based on the art of Alison Jardine, the artist behind the image above. For some truly amazing art, visit her site at http://alisonjardine.com This poetry is also reminiscent of a form of poetry perfected by Wallace Stevens.

Warhol–One Stop Poetry

Image via Wikipedia

Over at One Stop Poetry, http://onestoppoetry.com Brian Miller gave us the prompt to write to the art or life of pop artist James Rosenquist. Today’s been a day of deadlines, limiting my ability to do justice to this topic, so I hope it’s acceptable to substitute a poem I wrote about another pop artist, Andy Warhol, when we had an exhibit of his work at Nevada Museum of Art where I’ve been a docent.

Warhol

Maybe Andy was on
to something.
One-after-another
screen-printed cans—
Campbell’s soup:
red and white,
silver and gray,
navy blue with a gold seal.
An icon of comfort in
the midst of so much dismay.
Tomato, Chicken Noodle,
Split Pea,
Bean with Bacon, Pepper Pot.
Mother’s Milk, Mother’s Comfort.
Bring it on.

Did you ever stop?
Really look at art?
I mean art in a grocery store?
“Wake up!”
Andy would say.
“Look.
Listen closely.”

I pick up a navel orange.
Its dimpled skin
leaves a scent-mark
on my fingers.

“If you want to know me,
look at my art,”
“I’m a deeply superficial person.”

So I stare at him,
but he doesn’t glance back.
Eyes drifting to some
far-away place where
wholeness waits,
or to a party where
touching never held room
for emptiness.
The pull of gravity so great
the Mass collapses in
on itself,
Black Hole. Black Whole.

All that sparkles is
not diamond dust.
Even that wouldn’t adhere.
Your world
became glittered in so
much plastic.

Redemption plays in
pink and yellow
electric chairs.

Curl up,
snuggle in its lap
and die alone
while the nurse who
was there for you,
wasn’t.

Oh my God,
I am heartily sorry,
hardly,
heartily.
So much pain.
I repeat, I repeat.
Marilyn in
black and gray
and brown,
blue and pink.
We are heartily sorry
who we aren’t,
what we are
and what they made us.

The woman handed
the boy
a piece of dense bread.
“It’s dry,” he said.
“Dunk it in your soup,”
she answered.

(This poem was previously posted October 2010) Now I’m off to research Rosenquist. Thanks for the prompt, Brian.

The Death of Orange–Friday Poetically

Image via Wikipedia

The Death of Orange

A male oriole
lay lifeless.
Flaming sunset paused.

Linked to Friday Poetically: http://onestoppoetry.com

A Matter of Perspective–Friday Poetically

Image by Bklyn_Spencer via Flickr

One of my favorite living artists is Chuck Close. I was excited to see that Brian Miller’s prompt at Friday Poetically addresses his works. http://onestoppoetry.com/

A year or two ago I enjoyed touring students and the general public through an exhibit of Chuck’s art at Nevada Museum of Art. In addition to his well-know mosaic-like portraiture there was a collection of tapestries. Close used digitally manipulated photography to generate computer images that he sent to a tapestry weaving firm in Belgium  The museum displayed this work so that the visitors could carefully look behind the hangings to see all the threads that went into the finished work. It was an amazing experience. To view some of Close’s tapestries, you may enjoy visiting http://www.magnoliaeditions.com/Content/Close/Close.htm

A Matter of Perspective

Stand too close to life
and you will only see
little squares of colors.

Take a few steps back.
Look how the whole
becomes apparent.

If you view a tapestry
from the backside
confusion presides.

Step up, face it head-on
the precision of the image
will stun you.

Go ahead, manipulate reality.
The outcome surprises,
at times, clarifies.