Archive | September 2016



you come open, raw,
defenses unchecked, threshold
vacant, suspended
fragments whispering verses
uncovered and overgrown


For Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above.


15 years


My brother wanted to go to the 9/11 Museum.

We paid our money and waited in a long line of tourists for our timed entry to the steel and concrete underground crypt, complete with a gift shop (which we steered well clear of) and endless tape loops replaying the day’s events.


The new glass and steel monuments to commerce surrounding the plaza, with its beautiful pools, enclosed the space above the museum.


I found this ad  from the NY Times of May 29, 2015, when I was cleaning a few weeks ago.  I must have saved it, intending to do a headline haiku, but it got lost in the shuffle.  Having visited the site, I knew exactly what I wanted to do.


There is nothing “free” about the Freedom Tower, or the museum.  Is this the best way to remember this day and those who died?

it lingers
in the dazzling morning sky
like air
surround this opening

remember to breathe


Let there be light, and air, and songs, and sky, and running water, and the living earth and new growing things.  That’s what I think.

Words courtesy of the Magnetic Poetry oracle, for the Elusive Trope’s Magnetic Poetry Saturday Challenge.

Light Shift Anew


air misted with light
transparent, a shift
blurred softly, anew

silences weep, anew
cloudbursts reveal light
displaced as words shift,

as disguises shift,
multiplied anew
transitions of light–

light weightless shift expanding tears overflow anew


Jane Dougherty’s challenge this week was a tritina poem, with the painting above, and the word “parting”.


American Kestrel (Draw a Bird Day)


perched in place, sharply
focused, air
still with wings waiting

to lift firmament
into flight–
slow pace of silence

broken—klee klee
the time of pursuit


The 8th of each month is draw-a-bird-day, and I’ve done the American Kestrel for September, influenced by my recent reading of “H is for Hawk”.  The kestrel is the smallest falcon in North America, and one of the most colorful, often used as a beginner’s bird for falconry.

The poem uses the secret keeper’s words this week:


Laura at CreateArtEveryday usually hosts draw-a-bird-day, but she’s been MIA for about a month…

Art, from top to bottom:  pencil drawing, gouache painting, neocolor drawing (with water).


Junk Mail Art: Lost







Jane Dougherty’s microfiction challenge this week included Henri Rousseau’s painting, below, as inspiration, and the theme “abandon”.


My collage box had its own ideas, as usual.


When I returned, the scene had darkened.  Underneath layers of rain, the curtain was already falling over my head.
The clouds, no longer hidden, now speak for themselves.  We were united under an umbrella of overpowering landscape.
I just stood there, lost, watching it all unfold in front of me.


Found #3

My husband found this while going through old papers. The year must have been around 1981. I don’t remember doing this at all but I’d recognize my style anywhere. 

Here’s the invitation to the open house of his first office–35 years later. 


here is wood sHere there is
a pool, circle of
that shades but also mirrors–
what light gathers here?

Here there is
a rock, wearing time
and holding
the sky’s gifts
in opposing substances–
what matter cleaves here?

Here there is
a bridge from something
to nothing
of how disguise exposes–
what hides and seeks here?


Another wonderful photo prompt from Sue Vincent, above.

here is close up s

What do you see?

Found in garage 2

I used to do a lot of calligraphy type stuff like this. This one is quote by Andre Gide. My husband is holding it up for me. 

Found in the garage…

…because what better way to spend the weekend than cleaning out the garage? Actually I will need a dumpster for that task. Husband is inside going through boxes of old papers, one by one. It is a sad sight (I’d just dump them but he can’t). 

This is a photo taken by my father of me painting a large landscape for the window of a store. It was painted on some kind of fabric as I recall. I didn’t have the heart to toss it so I’m making it immortal as part of this blog. 

Purple Dreams (for Prince)

purple dreams s

Lie down beneath the shadow of the stars
the summer night is lonely, full of haze
the sea reflects the silent air so dark
and good things never last, or so they say

But open up your heart, release your mind
and see the sun despite the purple sky
the waters laugh and sparkle, move and shine
the world goes round and round as echoes fly

And if the heavens give us pearls and dreams
and if a blue moon showers us with words
and if a shining diamond fills the seas
why can’t the starfish transform into birds?

Imagine that these clouds hold hands with love
and rain the stars from eyes to skies above

purple night photo

For some reason, the photo in Jane Dougherty’s meter poetry challenge this week (above) immediately made me think of Prince.  I decided to use snippets from his lyrics, along with Jane’s words suggestions of “stars, night and water”, in my poem.  I thought about a ballad, but in the end trying another sonnet seemed to fit the best.  This second sonnet attempt was definitely easier than the first.

star birds s

These Rorschach paintings are also going interesting places.

Enjoy your weekend!