My Ace of Cups overflows,
drifting like flowers
on the sea.
I drink from it
knowing that nothing
Will liquid become air?
Will my hands become feathers
that become wings?
To the moon, perhaps–
in parallel, we translate ourselves
as everything changes.
Nina gave me a magnetic board for consulting the Oracle. This was her first message…of course she had to mention this week’s full moon!
In between all the rain and wind, it was a clear, if misty, night. I like the way the moon mirrored the streetlight rising over the buildings too.
breathe spirit from within
be nothing but a moon song
speaking with the wind
the matrix of my dream emerges
from dark mirrors, casting outlines
of stories on particles
points of glittered light
A nonet for Colleen’s #TankaTuesday with synonyms for origin and write.
I did a bunch of these moon totems in 2017 and meant to do more, but the project got sidetracked by life. I found this one in a drawer…I know the others are around somewhere. Perhaps they are hiding with the birdlings, also missing since I moved.
I’m a bit late to the Oracle today. She must be out there riding the wind…
ships of light
above heaving seas–
moon winds bare
that release time’s shadow storms
through a thousand doors
My bones are
white under my skin
not bleached or hard–) and yet you
answer by asking
words, invoking crow–
once white too)–bearing omens,
consumed by riddles.
How far will,
then what?—the black bird,
unfeathered above waters
that drown the questions,
Spinning children of
the same skin–)
What light lays bare,
its absence enshrouds.
My poem “Landing on the Other Side” is included in The Ekphrastic Review’s Franz Kline Challenge responses. Kline’s painting is above. My thanks to editor Lorette C. Luzajic for once again featuring my work.
Its light spills out from everywhere—the moon–
a lantern in the sky, a mirrored sea
projecting the between of tide’s return,
throwing its questions at infinity.
The landscape shimmers, particles on fire–
breathes in, impatient, waiting with the stars
for orbits to conjoin as shadowed blood
that spills out, falling into otherwise.
Bewitched by moon beams, pushing into pull,
the spirits of the night become themselves–
a coiled diffusion standing in two worlds,
a melody that casts the wind with spells.
Transparent on the air, invisible–
the ancient shores of galaxies still call.
DVerse is featuring the sonnet form this month. I always have difficulty with sonnets , which is why it’s taken me so long to compose even one.
The clouds cooperated and gave me a chance to see the magical moon last night. It’s beautiful this evening, too, and equally enchanting.
Nina and I consulted the Oracle together this week. We did our art independently, but the Oracle is always watching.
Now out to look at the blood moon!
Diamond rain crushing
the sky with shadow wind,
bitter like an ache–
Blood singing of moon storms–
languid music so still…
I want an enchanted garden
of madness and mist
to whisper through beauty–
My haiku “Shapeshifting Moonlight” is posted today as part of Pure Haiku’s Portal Series. You can read it here, along with all the other wonderful portals in verse. Thanks as always to Freya Pickard for including my words on Pure Haiku.
Joyce Fienberg, 75
Richard Gottfried, 65
Rose Mallinger, 97
Jerry Rabinowitz, 66
Brothers Cecil and David Rosenthal, 59 and 54
Bernice and Sylvan Simon, 84 and 86
Daniel Stein, 71
Melvin Wax, 88
Irving Younger, 69
Remembering those who lost their lives in the Tree of Life Synagogue on Saturday. May they rest always in a portal of light.
The moon sailing free–
hare pauses in the forest,
listening for light
Vita Brevis is once again sponsoring a haiku meet-and-greet. You can post your own haiku here, and then read all the other ones that have been submitted too.