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Resolving the Equations

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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.

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A Strange Beauty

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a strange beauty magnetic s

I consulted the Oracle with Colleen’s #Tanka Tuesday words–creepy and color.

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The Oracle is definitely tuned into World Weather.  The poetic form is etheree.

This
eerie
sky moans in
shadow music–
purple languages
of dreams drunk on black blues–
stormmist spraying chanted screams
on mad frantic whispering winds–
unrisen suns sleepwalking beneath
a moonless sea crying beauty and blood.

The art shows the underpainting on the left, and the finished painting photographed in two different lights, middle and right.

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This one is photographed with overhead light.

Incompletion

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Tomorrow it will be gone–
this false night,
this held breath–
we are undreamed.

Light falls scattered
without gravity,
a sliver of reflected time–
tomorrow it will be gone,

out there towards never.
It resembles matter,
although it has no form–
this false night,

pure, unbroken–
(that’s what I imagine–
healed and levitating into always)
This held breath—

it neither comes nor goes.
Listening, it does not reply–
(we’ve lost our knowledge of sleep)–
we are undreamed.

For Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above.  Another mysterious landscape.

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Another cascade poem.

 

Draw a Bird Day: Which Bird?

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I thought I saw blue jays, but red feathers and whistles turned them into cardinals. I thought I saw cardinals, but the starlings stole their song.  I thought I saw starlings, but they grew huge and then they laughed in a raucous crow chorus.

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Which bird? you ask, which
bird?—sparrows, tiny sparrows–
wings to wish upon

This is based on a fragment of a dream that came back to me with the birds in the morning.  All five birds mentioned are often both heard and seen outside my windows and doors (and, apparently, also in my dreams).

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Inadvertent hot dogs

I’ve been fooling around in a small sketchbook, just doodling around to see what comes out. This one was just an abstract and then I saw hot dogs come out.

Another doodle. That’s not his middle finger. I tried to put a thumb in the picture but it does look like he’s flipping the bird. Maybe it was subconscious.

I’ve been flipping the paper to get a mirror image. That’s what happened with this landscape. I still need art supplies like gouache and good paper; haven’t gotten around to it because I know if I go to the art store I’ll spend a couple hundred bucks. And bills await. But doing these are fun and freeing.

More earth tones

A few little sketches in the earth tone palette.

This one was calling out for blue so I went for it.

It has been a long week and I am looking forward to the weekend. Have a great one, wherever you are. Here in northern NJ it is looking good (after a huge and thunderous storm this past Tuesday).

Bewildered

Doodling around with my earth tone palette. These faces all look like I feel.

A not so vague discontentment and a worried feeling. Everything seems topsy turvey.

Maybe this one looks a little more settled but not much.

Earth tone palette which is much used and which I enjoy very much.

Opening Echo

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Unintended pause–
folding the absence inward,
into the presence

Keeping the hidden—the not
that fills the where without end

For Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above.  What wonderful colors to work with!  A magical fairy tale setting.

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The Ways of Self-Salvation 2

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Demanding patience, spirit grows deep–
nourished and carried near to the heart.
Waiting, waiting, my soul for to keep–
shadows breathing and falling apart.

Nourished and carried near to the heart–
the third eye opens, window and mirror.
Shadows breathing and falling apart–
beginning is singing, ending is near.

The third eye opens, window and mirror–
the ripeness growing, large and complete.
Beginning is singing, ending is near–
emptying follows, head and then feet

The ripeness growing, large and complete–
rocking inside a musical voice.
Emptying follows, head and then feet–
atoms laughing in naked warm noise.

Rocking inside a musical voice–
no thoughts to speak, no dreams to word.
Atoms laughing in naked warm noise–
diving like oceans, skying like birds.

No thoughts to speak, no dreams to word–
demanding patience, spirit grows deep.
Diving like oceans, skying like birds–
waiting, waiting, my soul for to keep.

I don’t normally post twice in the same day, but Jane Dougherty’s pantoum, “It was not a night like this”, reminded me a lot of this one I wrote last year, which was based on a poem I wrote a very long time ago.

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I’m also linking it to the dVerse narrative prompt, although I too am not sure it is exactly what Bjorn is looking for.

differences merge

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spilling
over, farther
than light—senses unmoiled
by healing waves we cannot see–
ancient

circles–
veils expanding around the moon,
elements unweaving,
thrown up and out,
beyond–

A mirror cinquain for Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday, using synonyms for fall and try.  I love the sound of the word moil, usually used in conjunction with toil to indicate working hard, but with a sense of drudgery.  But it comes from Middle English “to make” and can also mean confusion, turmoil (“perhaps tur(n) + moil”, according to dictionary.com) or to whirl endlessly.

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A good word to consider when reading the news…