hearth and home & how my hair–

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..

heading east

from my sketchbook/two women at the neighbor table

.

“i’m not flying with you”
i say
to the wind
“why not?”
“it’s against my nature”

in the coffee shop,
someone leans against the counter,
(parka//bobble cap//protruding curls)

which leans into the shopping mall,
against the towers of the church,
against my chest–

“you feel it, doYa?”
“no” i say

&turn the page

.

55 words exactly… that’s what we do over at dVerse today… join us..?

Ode to simple french life&that tiny restaurant in Nice// &oh that goat cheese–

from my sketchbook..

.
it’s crowded
shabby-ness,
a narrow stair
leads to the 2nd floor
more–
people,
talking french
with hands&feet
on tiny tables,
squished

into a low-top
roof space,
brimming

with the sound
of glasses/porcelain/
clanging//laughter,
we’re the only
non-french,

la menu du jour
//12,50 €
“rouget– is that fish?”
my husband asks
“it could

be anything”
we order,
next to us,
some wrinkled friends,
cheese plate,
glass of red//
excited conversation,

“loving it here”
i smile
lazy//life,
behind my back,
a teeny spiral stair
(almost hit my head)
winds up
to the only toilet,

“there’s no button
for the flush” i say,
“just a piece of wire
out the tank”
&goat cheese
aromatic/ly
deliCious
on my lips
“the fish
is fabulous”

“madame,
l’addition
s’il vous plaît”
“ah/voilà
monsieur”
she jots
the calculation
on the tablecloth
in night-black
marker
&we leave the tip

right next to it,
it won’t increase
nor decrease
one ounce of her friendliness,
she’s who she is,
“independence’s
what i call this”
i smile deep-
ly satisfied,

as we step out,
kissing//
chatting,
&my raspberry red trench coat
mingles giggling
with the azure rain

.

tony has us write nerudian odes at dVerse today using short lines… so write an ode to your subject or object of choice & join us at 3pm EST when he opens the pub doors..

i mean, have you ever tried to kiss the rain–?

woman in a red dress/by me/acrylics on paper

.

midnight man, a musician with smooth hands//
& she, wearing a red dress–

*

merely dots, dark and feathery on the voltage wire–
sun sinks into them

*

cathedral stairs//diffuse light// he smiles flint into a teethless tin cup

*

boardwalk’s dressed in a shards& stub suit//
she smells height //tongue-kisses the rain

.

gay has us write american sentences (which was allen ginsberg’s answer to haiku) at dVerse today… 17 syllables… capture a scene… see you at 3pm EST when the doors open..

coNtact us is still an empty page

type your Name is not labeled
type your name Is–
gingerbread /s in the air
gingerbread is everywhere
— a deep warm brown

(don’t say it loud) is one of them
gingerbread is unClear (you already kne(W) this)
you already knew is oFF black star’s upcoming mixtape
you–?//%!
what your name means is a spiritual awakening
(brings me to haiku)
the last haiku’s from a threadless tee
the Last/ing haiku is–

Xbusy voting for the–
XXsponsored by–

we leave it(mostly)oPen
thanks () credited to
thanks is soMetimes
thanks (likeTheWorldIs)(NotEnough)
— is due
thank You//(for gOOgling with us)

.

haha….ok… Sam has us writing googlism /list poems today at dVerse — go to googlism.com, type in a name or phrase, weave a list poem out of the results and share it with us at the pub when the doors open at 3pm EST..

Mut zur Liebe//courage to Love

.

öffne mir das tor zur welt!
an einen jungen dichter
sitze– wandle– steh(e)
menschenskinder
hautNah
die Zuflucht, ein riss
in der mauer– nach dem regen, Mut
zur Liebe

the other way round works as well….

mut zur liebe
nach dem regen, ein riss
in der mauer
die zuflucht– hautnah
menschensKinder, sitze,
wandle, stehe, briefe
an einen jungen dichter
öffne mir
das tor zur Welt!

english translation…

open the door for me– to the world,
to a young poet
sit, walk, stand
human child,
skinClose,
the hiding place, a crack
in the wall– after the rain, courage

to Love

.
made a deal with björn rudberg that i would write a book spine poem for dVerse in german if he would write one in swedish, his native language… smiles… hope you enjoyed…

i used those book titles…

öffne mir das tor zur welt by helen e. waite
briefe an einen jungen dichter by rainer maria rilke
sitze, wandle, stehe by watchman nee
menschenskinder by claudia & eberhard mühlan
hautnah by ed & gaye wheat
die zuflucht by corrie ten boom
ein riss in der mauer by jackie pullinger
nach dem regen by jon mcgregor
mut zur liebe by hemfelt, minirth, meier

dumb witness//Es

.

winter is past nose dive &
deLights & shadows,
the Arrival–

book of rhymes,

AloUD// blacK Coffee,

the collected poetry
of wörship–
fragMents

future graCe,
the pleasures of the damned,
just as i am,
diVerGent, going on somewhere,
des-
—-cen-
———ding

–into greatness

.

sam has us write book spine poetry at dVerse today… write a poem by just using the book titles..  i used…

winter is past by victoria c. slotto
nose dive by karin gustafson
delights & shadows by ted kooser
the arrival by shaun tan
book of rhymes by adam bradley
aloud, voices from the nuyorican poets cafe by miguel algarin and bob holman
black coffee by agatha christie
the collected poetry of nikki giovanni
wörship by guido baltes
fragments by blue flute
future grace by john piper
the pleasures of the damned by charles bukowski
just as i am by mary kling
divergent by veronica roth
going on somewhere by karin gustafson
descending into greatness by bill hybels

the title is a play off agatha christie’s dumb witness

taking a line(or2)for a walk

a practice piece i did in an online art training.. taking a line for a walk..

.
PaynesGrey// i take them out for walks
held loosely by the light
tip of penCil, juMpStarT//BooM!!crawl
snickering, bow&curl//Kite-

flighT//then crash//teeter-totter, mock
their neighbor figure’s kleid
(which is a (dotted) dress)// yes// rock-
ing gently in the breeze

snEEze once or twice, a crazy flock
of creatures with wiDe eyes
rise from a dewY lawn, reLease
(a swarm of yelLowdappled stars)
into a (dreaMy)//dan(s)ing night

.

today at dVerse, we’ll be looking at the tetrameter-trimeter ballad form and the rhyme schemes that go with it…ABAB, ABAC, ABCB.. give it a try… i stayed almost true to the form…smiles..  tony will open the pub doors at 3pm EST..

the old &rusty bridge

stretched thiN&
—-yeaRNing for the shore
across the river’s vein,
—-she crumBles
(poRous, buRning eyes)

&oxYgenInflamedCoRRoSion
gnaWs
layer after laYer after– sKin/fLesH/sin
EwS

Til she breaks

&til her core reVeals

no further center

.

for FFA where Sam’s tending bar today… doors open at 3pm EST
and linking also up with Poetry jam where Laurie’s prompt is Rust… thanks for the invite laurie..smiles

yep– when no one watches& //she doesn’t even use her wings

 the wind talks with a forest mouth
(bigLeaf teeth)

—–freeHand
————–on her bike
weFlyTowardTheSky hair–

she brEAThes sunRise

eggplants & tomatoes rub
plasticCrinkled shoulders in her basket

&i yell across the bridge of spinning wheels

“these Kids wiLL LoVE you!!”

(her reply gets eaten by the wind),
head back– sheLaughs,

& spreads her arms

———–a little wider

.

my daughter’s next teacher semester will be an internship at a secondery school.. and i know she will be doing great.. smiles

bri (whose birthday it is today…smiles) has us write 55’s today which means: tell a story in exactly 55 words… have a go.. the dVerse pub doors open at 3pm EST and what about linking your 55 with Gman as well.. smiles