Tag Archive | painting

Draw-a-Bird Day: Blue Jay

blue jay oak leaves s

you woke me not with
singing, but with squawks—crowlike,
insistent and loud—

a flash of blue amid oak leaves,
glittering with morning sun

I read online that bands of blue jays making a racket are often harassing a predator–must have been a hawk about the other morning.

I will continue to do draw-a-bird day here, but I’ve been posting at kblog while Nina is taking an extended break.  Once she returns, I’ll be back at MeMadTwo regularly again.  In the meantime, visit me at my other site!

 

Draw-a-Bird Day: short crested coquette

short crested coquette paint s

hummingbird magnetic

I consulted with the Oracle about this tiny (3″) Mexican hummingbird, one of many of the endangered bird species of the world.  Less than 1000 are estimated to exist.

short crested coquette pencil s

I did my first sketch, above, in colored pencil, but felt the colors lacked enough vibrancy, so I painted the top one with my metallic watercolors.

Flowers grow feathered
wings humming bird poetry
air breathes spiritsong

 

(nowhere) to be found

nowhere to be found close up s

it’s the alone in
the dance that makes the never
knowing so complete

Amaya at dVerse asked us to consider music that brings us to tears.  There are many candidates these days, but I chose Jackson Browne’s “For a Dancer” for it’s longevity and continued relevance in that department.  People, places, things…they are always “dancing in and out of view”.

And a ghazal for the song as well.

nowhere to be found s

In the quiet of a summer’s afternoon I think of you
in the absence that is always in this room I think of you

My mind plays tricks and mixes up the present and the past
in memories recalled and then exhumed I think of you

Bananas peaches lemons oranges strawberries and limes
in fruit that ripens and releases its perfume I think of you

I search for guidance in the symbols of mythologies and stars
in portents that appear like ghostly runes I think of you

The fiber spun and dyed the needle waiting in my hand
in threads that cross like patterns on a loom I think of you

Sometimes I seem to recognize a voice calling and turn
in the abbreviation of my nom de plume I think of you

Pay attention to the open skies.

 

but who’s counting?

but who's counting s

just another day
with another mass shooting
(thoughts and prayers optional)

It wasn’t even the top headline on the front page of the newspaper this morning.

but whos counting close up s

I’ll visit the Oracle tomorrow.

posted on dVerse Open Link Night, hosted this week by Mish

 

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

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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