Art is Messy–dVerse Poetics

Artist, Chester Arnold, in his Studio

This poem is about a problem–my problem. My office, writing space, is also my would-be art studio. And here’s the problem. I’m a perfectionist (borderline OCD?) and can’t write in a chaotic environment. I long to paint, but can’t endure the mess.

Today for dVerse Poetics, Grace prompts us to write to the amazing photographic display/art of Emily Blincoe. Her arrangements appeal to me for their organization, color, implied texture and pattern. In response, I share with you my (not-too-poetic) dilemma.

Art is Messy

I uncap each tube,
inhale deeply, feeling creativity
seep into my body
through the sense of smell.

Lay them out, then,
one-by-one,
color wheel-like:
red-orange-yellow
green-blue-purple
and all the shades
in-between.

S-t-r-e-t-c-h
that canvas
tight, tight-tighter yet.
Sort brushes
by number.
Drop cloth, easel,
light source.

Perfect.

Uncap tube.
Inhale emptiness.

Thank you, Emily, for sharing your beautiful work.

Photo: Emily Blincoe

 

 

of a gray september day

Photo: V. Slotto

of a gray september day

this early morning
(pewter-skied day),
i long for shadow-slices
undulating among rocky crags,
swooping into tree trunk crevices,
unraveling ribbons
of golden sunshine–
light tickled by grass threads.

yesterday, they clung sensually
to a solitary rose,
her beauty now swept
beneath a leaden shroud.

Photo: V. Slotto

My favorite prompt, the Quadrille, a 44-word poem (exactly, exclusive of the title)! This week De is looking for the word SHADOW in the poem itself. Stop by dVersePoets Pub with your Quadrille and sip delight by reading the submissions of other poets, sharing comments, too. The prompt is open all week.

 

Hibiscus–dVerse Quadrille

Today, I’m hosting at dVerse Poets’ Pub for Monday Quadrille #16. A Quadrille is a poem of exactly 44 words, no more, no less, exclusive of the title. I’m asking you to use any form of the word OPEN within the poem itself. Here’s mine:

Photo: V, Slotto

hibiscus

in awe-tinged silence
i watch petals unfurl
opening upon beauty
cached within—
softness charged with
life-giving energy.

sun glows
through flower-skin,
brings to mind
moments we shared
in the desert,
garden-joy i cherish.

would that i could
unlock memories
hidden within
your beautiful soul.

Please join us at 3:00 PM, EDT.

earthbound, today–dVerse Quadrille

In the deep fall
don’t you imagine the leaves think how
comfortable it would be to touch
the earth instead of
the emptiness of air and the endless
freshets of wind?

Mary Oliver
Song for Autumn

earthbound, today

like leaves
slumbering on earth’s sweet body
protected from buffets
of unrelenting winds

I find my center
in the warmth of your embrace
listen to the pounding
of your heart

you hold me close
in the freshness
of early autumn air
and I surrender

Photo: Victoria Slotto

Today, Dee invites us to consider the nearing approach of autumn by writing a Quadrille using the word LEAVES. A Quadrille is a poem of exactly 44 words, no more, no less, exclusive of the title. Should you like to join in, head on over to dVerse Poets. 

the delicate art of living–a quadrille at dVerse for Viv

Photo: David Slotto, Leucistic Hummingbird, April 2011

the delicate art of living
a quadrille for Viv

my heart follows
as she flits, dances
from flower to bud
sipping with joy
of life’s abundant nectar,

savoring each moment
of this brief séjour,
leaving behind
such sweetness of word-pollen,

placing with care each stitch
into the textured,
colorful fabric
of life’s journey

Today, our first day back at dVerse Poets’ Pub, we are thinking of our friend, Viv, who we lost while we were on break. The prompt is to write a Quadrille, a poem of exactly 44 words, that includes the word JOURNEY.

Some of Viv’s Quilts found on her blog

Sound and Silence–Poetic Bloomings, Day 3

Day 4 at Poetic Bloomings PAD Challenge: “And I Quote Summer,” asks us to paint comparisons.

Sound and Silence

Summer sings of river’s flow,
the buzz of bees and,
if you but listen closely, growing grass.
At night, crickets call insistently,
seeking a mate.
A blue jay squawks counterpoint
to robins trill.

We hear groans of air-conditioners
or, through our open windows,
the long, long, short, long wail
of trains heading toward the East.

Out in the yard, children’s laughter
fills us with such memories of our own.
And on her porch an aged spinsters tells
her stories to anyone who passes by
while neighbors spread the news
across the fence.

When winter comes, then silence will ensue—
‘tis time to go within
and wait.

Photo: David Slotto

Photo: Victoria Slotto

The Comforting Scent of Roses–Sanaa’s Prompt Nights

Photo: Victoria Slotto

The Comforting Scent of Roses

Before the record heat slips in, I go into the garden to tend to a few chores—dead-heading the spent irises, thanking them for the beauty the shared with us this spring after five years of drought. The climbing rose was next, but on the way, I stopped to check in on our resident sparrow family, newly hatched in the bird house we hung in the ash tree. There on the ground, he lay, a tiny bird—featherless, struggling to upright himself. Mama hovered overhead. With my gloved hand, I lifted him and placed him back inside his nesting place, hoping that he would be accepted.

A few hours later, I saw his little head peeking out the hole between tree branches that had not survived the lack of rain. Sunshine backlit the beauty of the scene. I turned my back to fetch those pruning shears for the roses still awaiting my attention. When I turned around, a flash of blue appeared and quickly snatched the baby from its abode. I watched as he devoured the helpless creature.

nature seems cruel
downcast, I turn to my chores
embraced by fragrance

Sorry to say, this is a true story, just happened and thoroughly bummed me out. I understand an appreciate the concept of the circle of life, and yet to see it happen so clearly is disarming.

I wrote this for Sanaa’s Prompt Nights where the theme this week is take time to smell the roses. I recently heard that this saying was originally spoken by PGA golfer Walter Hagen in the 1950’s. As someone who pretends to golf, I think he must of been speaking to the little importance of a game of golf compared to the many more important things in life. 

Enclosure–dVerse Poetics

Enclosure
a Sonnet for Linda

I stand in darkness looking out the door.
Dim lights reflect in puddles on the street.
The night is young, but fear comes to the fore-
front of my soul as I admit defeat.

Imprisoned in my heart, I flee what waits
beyond the boundaries of this world I know—
imagining those things my mind creates—
(the pain) rejected oft’ so long ago.

To taste despair, so hopeless to move on,
I turn away, drink silently of fate
and pray for morn to bring a gentle dawn—
my garden, flowers, trees inside my gate.

Perhaps someone will come when I am dead,
scatter my ashes in that world I fled.

With Lillian as hostess for dVerse Poetics, we are writing about doors. I searched my photo archives and this photo of our front door made me think of someone I loved much who suffered from agoraphobia for years. When she died, the family released white doves. I trust she is free at last.

The doors to the pub open at 3:00 PM EST. I hope this prompt will open those creative doors for you.

I Am of the Desert–dVerse Poetics

Photo: David Slotto

I Am of the Desert

I am of the desert.
The hunger of coyote howls in my bones.
My spirit knows the parched,
the arid earth.
But of the night I stretch my hands
to touch the moon, the stars.
I taste the flurry of colors
playing hide and seek amidst
the scrub of rabbit brush.
We are of the desert, you and I,
our names engraved on sandy slopes.
Together we await the wind,
the keening breath
that carries us to tomorrow.

Indeed, the desert is in my DNA. Written and linked to dVerse Poetics where the prompt invites us to write of the Southwest.

Purple Pizzazz–Color Your World

Photo: David Slotto

Photo: Victoria Slotto

 

Purple Pizzazz

you paint spring happy

blend colors with so much care

divine artisan

Linked to Jennifer Nichole Wells Color Your World photography prompt: purple pizzazz.