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moonflower

moonflower s

moonflower magnetic lai nouveau s

In honor of this month’s May flower full moon, the Oracle gave me a lai nouveau.  I know dVerse has moved on to the ghazal already, but I’m not ready yet for June which is still a full week away.

moonflower close up s

the moon a flower
cloud air and water
gentle
wild gardens wander
secrets uncover
cycle
we follow after
blossoming color

shine over summer
spring fall and winter
fertile
beneath blue murmur
listen as nature’s
soul fills
cloud air and water
the moon a flower

 

Poem up at The Ekphrastic Review

free at last s

My poem “Free at Last” was among those chosen to accompany the painting  “Ninos”, by Fidelio Ponce de Leon, at The Ekphrastic Review.  You can see the artwork and read it, along with the rest of those selected, here.

free at last close up s

My thanks once again to editor Lorette C. Luzajic for supporting my work and the interaction between the visual and written arts.

misdirections

misdirections s

here or there
and then what?  so far
so up–then
down, between
lost and left behind–climbing
the chutes, the ladders,

the maybes
and the knotted, the
ready and
the not yet,
the pointless and the lines drawn
in the sand…which way?

misdirections close up s

A nonsense quadrille for dVerse using the word “up”.

sailing the mares of night

sailing the mares s

sailing the mares magnetic s

The Oracle gave me another lai, the featured poetic form at dVerse for May.  She began with darkness and ended with light.  They are always switching places it seems.

saling the mares close up s

what blackness this storm?
it covers the moon
and sky

beneath shadowed dream
wind remakes the when
of why

time sings of spring sun
the light whispers come–
don’t cry

Ensō

enso s

mind troubled with images
brush full of ink–
becoming empty

For the final day, NaPoWriMo asks for minimalism in word and gesture.

You can read about the Enso here.

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Shaded

shaded s

I’m standing
not in the way but
out—myself
here somewhere
yet not quite ready for this
trough that releases

emptying,
revacating the
premises–
I borrowed time
from all those appointments with
destiny, unkept

Reopen
the scar, make room for
new bloodveins,
roots, branches,
a forest to surround, sing
alive alive-O

Imagine
what strange things fortune
could reveal
in its own
time, centered in a place where
the lines intersect

For Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above, and NaPoWriMo Day 29(!) a meditation on one of my many states of being.

shaded close up s

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O! none but

O none but s

silence parched and
barren,
depleted even of rage,
of
refutations to give to death’s
denial of the eternal–
which shiver stands distilled, concentrated, cold?

Today I used yesterday’s NaPoWriMo prompt, to make Shakespeare’s sonnets our poetic inspiration.  I wanted to do a Golden Shovel poem–I like them, and I haven’t done one in a long time.  The line I used was from Shakespeare’s Sonnet XIII, “and barren rage of death’s eternal cold?”

o none but close up s

What is a Golden Shovel?  you can read about it here.  And do read both Gwendolyn Brooks and Terrance Hayes as well.

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surrounded

surrounded s

surrounded magnetic s

I consulted the Oracle this morning and ended up with a Lai poem, the featured form at dVerse for May.  The rhymes are pretty slanted, but the message suits this fine morning that has cleared from grey to breezy blue.

surrounded close up s

I’m posting this for NaPoWriMo, but I may try the Shakespeare prompt later if I have time.

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a formula for zero

a formula for zero s

quick and not yet dead
these visions that hover
inside the unconsciousness of my head
an expanding screen of color

these visions that hover
a journey of blood and cells
an expanding screen of color
orbiting in waves and spells

a journey of blood and cells
the Other I am not
orbiting in waves and spells
multitudes circulating beyond thought

The Other I am not
shrinking in sense and form
multitudes circulating beyond thought
synapses returning unborn

Shrinking in sense and form
inside the unconsciousness of my head
synapses returning unborn
quick and not yet dead

a formula close up s

NaPoWriMo asked for a repetitive poem, perhaps a pantoum…

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and its shadow

and its shadow s

Opening my eyes
in the morning this day
into grey light
black branches suspended
between my window and the sky–

the calendar says spring
as I pull the comforter closer
and my thoughts wander
into the kitchen.

My body soon follows
the promise of coffee
warming bare feet
cold floor
distracted mind–

Looking out now–
is that a robin?
No, a sparrow, still–
but the blue jay tells me
he’s somewhere close by.

When will the world reverse
itself, green, full once again
of uncontained expectation?

I sip my coffee,
the aroma comfortable,
friendly.
Its bitter taste
sharpens my mind.

There’s a black hole
covering the front page
of the news.

Oh yes.

No surprise there.

and its shadow close up s

NaPoWriMo wanted a poem about a season and our senses and a question.  This came from notes I wrote the morning early in April that I picked up the newspaper outside to see a photo of a black hole taking up the entire top half of the page.

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