Lucky 5-7-5

dealing out the cards–fate
drawn like caution thrown to wind–
wild, blind–flying free

I really tried to do a list poem for the NaPoWriMo prompt.  I like the idea.  But after several hours, this is the result.

Ishtar

What is revealed
between
the mysterious symbols
of naked dreams?

Edges
walking on air

Small wonders
formed
of transparent
whispers

The perfect vanishing point

NaPoWriMo wants a narrative today.  This is about as close as I can get (which is pretty far away).  Words courtesy of the collage box Oracle.

Ishtar is one of those love/war/fertility/justice goddesses…an expression of duality and conflicting desires.  But she is definitely about women’s empowerment.

And she managed to visit the Underworld and get back to the upper world again–with a little help and by sacrificing her husband (in some versions of the story justified, in some not so much)–so is also a goddess of the between, the transitional.

And of course she also has associations with the moon and the stars and creatures with wings.

 

Out of the Clouds (Things in my Tarot Card)

My Ace of Cups overflows,
drifting like flowers
on the sea.

I drink from it
knowing that nothing
is certain.

Will liquid become air?
Will my hands become feathers
that become wings?

To the moon, perhaps–
in parallel, we translate ourselves
as everything changes.

For the NaPoWriMo prompt, a sort-of-a-list of things, in the form of a quadrille about an Ace for dVerse.

 

We are doing nothing,

and yet we
shout, we run through skies
like fire.  Where
do we live?
Our voices surround the trees,
our dances timeless.

We are deep,
endless, uncontained,
always and
everywhere.
We entwine with movements, with
stillness, with the air,

like leaves
that grow green and then
release themselves,
singing in
the wind.  We fall apart and
return completed.

We have no
surfaces, no years
to count or
give away.
We laugh like creatures with wings
scattering clear light.

Our form is
unmeasured.  We speak
in no know
tongue.  Alive,
we need no reason.  No one
can tell you our names.

NaPoWriMo has asked us to spread joy today.

 

Take These Broken Wings

Curse not the king, no, not even in thy thoughts, and curse not the rich in thy bedchamber; for a bird of the air shall carry thy voice, and that which hath wings shall tell the matter.
–Ecclesiastes 10:20

Among twenty snowy mountains,
The only moving thing
Was the eye of the blackbird.
–Wallace Stevens, “Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird”

That which hath wings shall tell
(blackbird whirling in the autumn winds)
The birth of the sky, the void in the flow

Three minds like a tree in parallel
(rising in blueness, the mystery twinned)
That which hath wings shall tell

Blackbirds are involved in what I know
(how to release and how to begin)
The birth of the sky, the void in the flow

A man and a woman are one distilled
(diving divining reflected and twinned)
That which hath wings shall tell

The river is moving in flying shadow
(the question unseen that I can’t comprehend)
The birth of the sky, the void in the flow

Imagine these golden birds aglow
(the crow and the tree and the origin’s end)
That which hath wings shall tell
The birth of the sky, the void in the flow

For the NaPoWriMo prompt, a villanelle with lines taken from an outside text.  I’ve used both of these poetic sources before; you can see examples here and here.  To the words of Stevens and the Bible, I added text from one of my many crow poems, and art selected from my many pieces inspired by crows.

And since dVerse is conveniently featuring the villanelle form this month, I’ve linked to the collection of villanelle poems.

Zero

I always draw the Fool card.  Zero.  Nothing and everything.  It becomes whatever is added to it, but if it is multiplied, it returns to itself.  Dividing it is impossible.

My life has been a patchwork, unpredictable. The best laid plans always come up with new ways to fall apart.  Sometimes this is a good thing, but I never know if that’s true until later.

What lies ahead? Be
careful not to chase your fear–
leap before you look.

An April Fool haibun for the dVerse prompt on Monday which I missed, and for Colleen’s #TankaTuesday poets-choice-of-words.  I’m also linking to dVerse Open Link Night.

 

April 2019

morning wakes
me at first light as
my mother
used to do,
but not with words—birdchoir sings
through me:  “rise and shine!”

My mother did not believe in sleeping in…when she decided it was time to get up, even on non-school days, she would waltz in, open the blinds, and announce, “Rise and Shine!”  One of the delights of spring for me is that my alarm is the light and the birds (I never close my blinds)–but I always hear my mother’s voice joining the chorus.

I worked on my monthly grid all week, waiting for the NaPoWriMo prompt to do the accompanying poem.  This is not really a recipe, but I think it’s close enough.  The grid was inspired by numerous photos of tulip festivals from all over the world…rows and rows of beautiful color.  April!

harbinger

the blue of
darkness is
a blank canvas

from translucent music
comes
the shadow
of hope

moonbird rising
toward
the center of deep
light

It took me a long time to see the hat in Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above–to my eyes the form on the sign was a magical creature, perched on the threshold.  So I just went with it.

The collage box Oracle knows what the world needs now…

Poem at the Ekphrastic Review

My poem “(and the devil too)”, a response to a mysterious painting by Omar Odeh, is up at The Ekphrastic Review, along with seven other wonderful illuminations of Odeh’s work.  My thanks to editor Lorette C. Luzajic for including my collage poem amongst all the words, and for connecting me to the work of this artist.

filling the margins,
spirits clinging to shadows–
the witching hour

The title is taken from a song by XTC, “Dear God”, a still (sadly) appropriate commentary on the world that we humans have made for themselves.

Unmasked

This face is not the one I wore yesterday. Recast as abstraction, it chases illusions that will pilot my borrowed dreams.  Today I am a galaxy of song, light, color and dance.

If I turn around
will I recollect myself
or pass myself by?

A haibun for the dVerse prompt of Mardi Gras, using synonyms for Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday words “follow” and “lead”.  The collage is based on a Cajun Mardi Gras mask.  I also made the haibun a quadrille of 44 words after being inspired by Jane and Merril’s use of this very short form.