The end is
the unrelenting blueness
with crystal cold
to sheer form, chanting
ancient songs of Boreas–
fabrications floating on
seas of sinking air
notes of silence pitched
holes with each unspoken word,
transform, to be borne
the years spin,
A poetic response to the January prompt at Myths of the Mirror, above. Somehow working in blues always leads me to stitching…in this case I painted two circles and cut the smaller one up and stitched it on top of the larger one.
Also linking to dVerse Open Link Night.
Multiply the circumstances–
What rises to the occasion?
What remains, over and over,
expecting to return again?
Look between—what is divided?
Multiply the circumstances.
What is buried? Which measurements
contain dust and ashes, which bones?
Around the patterned interval
tricks appear as what they are not.
Multiply the circumstances–
ghostlines projected in the air.
Symbols transforming the unseen–
abridged, compounded, mythical–
saved by neither fortune nor fate–
(multiply the circumstances)
A quatern for Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above. This is another repeating form–the same idea, but with its own distinct rhythm.
Go you darkened, alive,
in silence growing—
go you as wildness
mingling with earth and trees,
holding the sky open
to the wind, seedlings flying,
rooted in air.
Dance you as water falling,
as a jewel crowning–
dance you as the shadow
released to the circle of light,
undressing the stars down
to the bones, falling like moonlight
covered in crystalline wings.
For Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above.
I’ve been reading Pablo Neruda…
I wear myself inside out. My mask is hidden; my thoughts scriven mysteriously in code. Sleep returns me to my origins. I fall, resisting, afraid to let go.
I get up and it’s yesterday, dreary and inexact. Memories come together and instantly fall apart. I am unbuttoned from the brain down.
All those rituals, the names and places, surrounding me lost and confused. No one can count them. No one can say when or how they disappeared.
outlines stand centered between
never and not now
For Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday, a haibun using synonyms for sad and write. The top artwork is actually part of the stitching for a totally different project. It’s done on iridescent plastic paper, and the scan makes it look brain-like I think. The collage above I did awhile ago, but it also seemed to fit.
The mind is a delicate balancing act, always.
Were I Other. Were I spoken in a different voice. Were I fallen into impossibility.
I would be like stars.
I would echo the feeling
that follows the wind.
Were I made of light. Were I pulsing like oceans. Were I to open as wide as never and nothing.
I would radiate
rainbows. I would paint moments
with sound. Fill absence.
For Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday, with synonyms for love and time. I’m not entirely sure this qualifies as a haibun. In the spirit of, anyway.
The embroidered watercolor is a work in progress. I plan to keep embroidering it until I stop.
I draw the Wheel of Fortune. My seasons are indeed turning. I open maps, searching for a solid place to land. Dazzled by paths that keep shifting, I am transported with a velocity that blurs the threads that have held me in the landscape my feet have raveled in the circles of my years. The unknown spills across my limitations, beyond the boundaries traced by time.
Randomness and change
growing wings in transcendence–
A haibun for Colleen’s #Poetry Challenge #92, using synonyms for bewitch and treasure.
Cast and reflected,
pulled by stars in evensong–
Sounds fall unlettered, unversed,
in silence gilding the sky.
For Colleen’s #Tanka Tuesday with synonyms for magic and green.
I’ve been embroidering this watercolor mandala for weeks, and even now I’m not sure I’m finished. I like both the front and the back.