hearth and home & how my hair–

summer 2013 at a wedding

summer 2013 at a wedding

.

we drive daylight into night //
bitter on my skin
as if the moon dropped at once,
on my knees,

search the carpet fibres for it,
swords with eyes& double edge
cut hard into my chest

not sure if there’s a band aid left
to stop the bleeding,

compare an apple to a bat &
both look silly, i flap wings,
& there’s much i don’t do
(in the way i am supposed to–)

tell christmas ornaments
to stop their crazy glistening
or their hanging dreamily with one hand
on that fine spun silver thread
from limbs that tilt and bob
and change direction every second– yes

i’m no perfectionist
the torch’s not working?
i’ll sit and wait
until my eyes shine in the dark
(like a cat does)

‘til i see you &
you, the path, bathed odd in yellow light?
it’s there–
and not // in venice

they use gondolas to bridge the gaps
i paint one,
paint us in
& scratch our names into its wooden surface
(in japanese// to underline our deep fragility)

i’m not afraid
of messing things upUp and down the road,
avoid the middle line & run after the taillights
of a fleeting car

“it hit you hard,
the dying of your colleague’s husband–”
“yes”
“maybe time to re-think life?”
“yes//yes and no”

&with an 05 micron pen
i sketch winter on a sheet
personified– how she gazes at me,
deep blue eyes,
hair that look like clouds, curling carefree/
snowy/ into this and that direction,

and no combing//straight
to fit a pre-drawn frame

.

“Hearth, home, and common speech” is Gay’s theme at dVerse today… writing of or about that which makes you and your language unique… doors open at 3pm EST..

39 responses to “hearth and home & how my hair–

  1. ‘Common speech’ makes me look hard at the language of the poem. This phrase for example

    ‘the dying of your colleague’s husband’

    has a unique word choice and word order, as though first of all things are ranked in order of importance to you.

    1) dying
    2) colleague
    3) husband

    Not the fact of death but the process of dying hits you hard. Then that it concerned your colleague. Lastly that it was her husband. Saying “your colleague’s husband’s death” wouldn’t perform the same function, poetically or semantically.

  2. i love the directness of this claudia…from the perfectionist line on…and then the chasing tail lights of a fleeing car….that section really brought on the emotions for me….hugs on your colleagues husband…hard when it hits so close

  3. I love how the images, nature underline the what happening next in the poem: dying…

    ‘we drive daylight into night //
    bitter on my skin
    as if the moon dropped at once,
    on my knees,’

    ~ Love the photo, great memory!

  4. Stunned to see this realistic pic after weeks of impressionism, I turn to your poem where the impressionism is intact and imperfection is questioned, but not very seriously as it is too much fun to be who we are and feel what we feel, no permanent corrections necessary. I love this picture of ease and confidence even in the face of a disturbing death–and the pic from a wedding, not a funeral.

  5. First I am accustomed and have grown to enjoy your paintings so having this wonderful photo is a real teat. I get to see you. Then you tell wonderfully a tale of you both but more of him. REAL. I love real.

  6. What a lovely transition.. reading your poetry is like glimpses into your world… and so many turns in your poetry with embedded dialogue.. and handling the dialogue’s sorrow.. scetching her on 0.5 micron pen.. yes that make total sense with me..

  7. Home is where the heart is, & your poetics become the flame, the heat, the guide into a village of words spilling from torrents of emotion, such a fine mix of you as wife, artist, traveler, muse, lover, matriarch; another great poem, and inspired use the prompt; with the reminder of our mortality, & the brevity of our journey.

  8. I do think sometimes when one becomes aware of someone’s death the idea of rethinking life naturally follows…..as one looks for meaning! I liked the picture a lot, Claudia!

  9. It seems that when death occurs to those in similar situations and stages of life that we are in…it becomes more tangible to us…and we prize the time we have left with those we love.

  10. Again I am there with you and seeing you and all that’s meaningful, your music bouncing like light off Christmas ornaments, your family and their cares in every fiber and texture, and your capturing the moment, the season, your lives in words and paintings. It’s all you Claudia. Thank you. So important to me that we got to meet and share good times. I hope we get to do it again!

  11. I could identify with the dying of someone you know well making one ‘re-think life’. And I sometimes wish I could use a pen and draw but I am just hopeless so, when I can, I take photos.

  12. Your words sketch a sense of fragility but there is a willful strength that peeks through–not doing things in the way you are supposed to willful hair that curls how it wants–and I feel that strength will make everything right in the end.

  13. loving the emotion, condolences for your friend ~ another glimpse of you, writing from the heart and as for the photograph – simply beautiful art…I so didn’t mean that to rhyme…. smiles

  14. It is written frequently, “No! No! It is only a poem, has nothing to do with my life or anyone’s trouble.” I do not believe that. If I wish to really “know” someone, read their poetry, study their drawings–coming to know you is such fun, Claudia,

    YOU, unafraid of most anything/everything. Throw paint here or there, it will nicely fit in the end. Stop the bleeding. Mess up things, situations, life (a little bit)…be the non-conformist everyone admires…envies. And flap your wings, taste, feel, touch, observe, follow that small voice deep within–
    for that is where resides the Great Reality

    Words are your thoughts, and become thoughts of who reads.
    PEACE and LIGHT, German-Girl!

    You are very pretty woman!

  15. Amazing. Intricate, like a fine weave. I want to take it apart and look at the threads, to see how you combined them. But am afraid to break the structure, so just stroke the surface and marvel at your talent.

  16. The feeling hits hard before knowing why it hangs in your poetry…and then the reason comes with a quick punch that stays with me. At my age, hearing of another’s death is a time for rethinking what we might have left and the pain being felt by the loved ones left behind. Very poignant.

  17. Lovely picture of you and your husband. I like the image of winter personified with blue eyes & uncombed hair … the carefree feeling of nature as expressed in your art. Sorry about your colleague’s husband … loss does make us rethink life a bit. Touching emotions in your poem.

  18. Wow. This is lovely. I’ve already read it a few times, and I read it out loud to my mother. She loved it, too.
    I think my favorite verses are the first, fifth, second last, and last. You poem is so full and connected and completely original. Love the title, too; it launches right into the rhythm of the words.

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