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.
clouds with furied
winds—far away you drive
distances, all bearings lost–
here alone, I wish for headwinds
to turn your wheels around—back to me
Colleen’s #tanka Tuesday words this week are meaning and passion. The winds have certainly been impassioned here of late.
Happy Valentine’s Day! I hope all your loved ones are on their way home.
short of war
between the holes in the
skin of ordinary lives–
those empty spaces echoing
with unknowing, with what could have been
Day 30 of NaPoWriMo linked us to oddness for inspiration–I clicked on “Pieces of History” first and was immediately confronted with war, long and short. There’s no escaping it, it seems.
When Nina and I first started our blog, I was doing mostly art, trying to make it a regular practice again. One of the series I did then was called “what is it good for?”. #8 was posted in 2014…and so it goes, the same question continues. With #9, a nonet.
I want to thank the NaPoWriMo hosting site for connecting me to so many wonderful poets and pieces of writing, and for helping me actually do 30 poems for the first time.
And to Joan Mitchell, for inspiring every piece of art I made for NaPoWriMo. The works that I used as references are below.
I’m a bit late with both my monthly grid (well…somewhat of a grid anyway) and Magnetic Oracle consultation. She felt nonet-ish this week. The poem also uses The Secret Keeper’s words from this week.
I had this idea to try marbling paper, so I looked online for some way to do it with household things. I ended up with one involving shaving cream…a bit messy, and the smell! Also the results were not all I’d hoped for. I do think I would be more prepared if I tried it again, but only if I can find shaving cream that has no perfume…
the sky with
sun shadow’s lost time.
Will sleep serve us summer,
the language of sea gardens
chanting through sweet delirious
mist? and singing petals on the wind?
I’m hoping for some of those dreams this evening myself.
Invisible to eyes in daylight
the future waits, unworn. Questions
recast as fire, fate moving
backward to the crossroads.
Neither here nor there,
Seeking refuge in
hidden meanings, beyond.
But when the journey divides
into before and after, what
prediction can find the line between?
A response to Sue Vincent’s prompt this week, Flame.