Robert Okaji is raising money for Brick Street Poetry. This is his wonderful response to my suggested title “Scarecrow Visits Van Gogh’s Wheatfield in Auvers”
Crow calls to me from above. There he is—on that roof. He extends his invitation again and again.
leave sidewalks behind–
rise, and conjure golden fields
waving to azure
skies filled with high flying clouds,
wings singing songs into the air
I know there is magic here, even in places filled with concrete and glass.
Holding out my arms, I wish: carry me home.
watching my child-self
lying in a bed of green–
opened up, shining
For NaPoWriMo today, we are talking to animals. Crow is always hanging around in my world.
Autumn. I fall into disrepair. The sky still covers me, but my shadow dissolves into the remains of the golden ocean that heretofore eddied and flowed at my feet. My skin lies ragged, unfilled.
I was crowned, once, with dark discordant ornaments. They sit on other thrones now, unrepentant pretenders, still calling the sun, the wind–the land itself–to task.
A crow flies over
a graveyard—blackness on stone–
change hangs in the air
When I saw Frank Tassone’s Haikai Challenge about scarecrows, I was intrigued. I can’t think of Scarecrow without thinking of Robert Okaji’s wise sage. So whatever I did would be colored by what Robert has written. I also decided to use the words from Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday, synonyms for ghost and hollow, as many of them seemed to fit on Scarecrow too.
As to Crow–he’s always around here somewhere.
Once again, different light makes the metallic paint change like the weather and the seasons…and this is another artwork inspired by Joan Mitchell being inspired by Van Gogh. Circles within circles.
Also linked to dVerse Open Link Night.
wondering why then suddenly where
diving divining reflecting sky scrying
and the tree and the meaning of be
the birth in the sky and the void in the flow
rising in greyness
the mystery flying
letting and leaving the tree now receiving
carries that no one can see
the sky grey the tree
For Sue Vincent’s photo prompt above. I can no more resist a crow than the moon.
Also linking to open link night on dVerse.
One of my favorites, these audacious birds jump out of the way just as the car is coming. One flew right over my head the other day.
They end their flight
one by one–
crows at dusk
Shape-shifting in the gap,
the border of the map a light
of shadowing, not quite
prepared to reunite the tide
with ebb and flow implied
by intervals inside of time,
the pause between the line,
the missing paradigm unfilled,
the end of something. Stilled.
I’m a bit late with my February grid, but I thought it complemented Sue Vincent’s “Low Tide” prompt this week, so I did my own poem in response to both Buson and the photo (above).
Once again, I tried a new poetry form; this one is Vietnamese. It’s called Luc Bat, and you can read about it here.
Crowman, are you stalking me?
call to attention
harsh, always interrupting.
Do you want me to look up?
I’m telling stories,
remaking the recent past.
But that part’s invisible…
or do you hear it?
and are you laughing at me?
OK—I’m leaving that world.
I’m here now, present.
I’m unfolding those regrets.
Are you happy now?
Dedicated to my local crow, whose distinctive voice never fails to bring me back to real time.
Brush and ink on rice paper.
I haven’t had the watercolors out for awhile, and this little guy caught my eye.
Lemurs are found only on Madagascar. All lemur species are endangered due to shrinking and fragmented habitat. They are also poached, even from reserves, for food, and kept as pets. Seventeen species of lemur are already extinct.
The ring-tailed lemur was featured in a previous endangered species post.
For more information about efforts to save these primates: http://lemur.duke.edu/