Tag Archive | watercolor

castle in the sky

castle s

our bridges reflect themselves,
shimmering as we cross
between the solid and what
we cannot control–
the light tells us stories

about what we think we see,
about what lies beneath
the surface of where and who
we think we are–
more, there is always more

that stays unfocused,
that contains what can’t be
seen it its entirety,
that reconfigures itself
with wind, or clouds,

or tides rising from the unseen–
they say humans prefer the mirrored
image to the camera’s eye

the uncapturable moment
of possibility

For Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above.

castle close up a

 

butterfly

butterfly s

sun casts its
eye on winged shadows,
dancing in
to the day–
tossed by light waves that play with
dappled melodies

butterfly close up s

I’ve been wanting to do another butterfly painting, and the dVerse prompt from Laura, flights of fancy, provided the perfect excuse.

heat wave

heat wave s

on the horizon
top melts into bottom and
becomes something else

For Frank Tassone’s haikai challenge #147 smoldering hot.

And a watercolor for World Watercolor Month, hosted by Charlie at Doodlewash.

wings

wings wet s

wings magnetic s

Inspired by Nina’s butterfly rock, above, a collaboration with the Oracle.

wings wet close up s

spirit wanderer
life must shine beneath
this summer moon

breathe bright breezes
through flowering light

walk on air

let the nightsong
follow you home

almost full moon july 2020 s

Last night the rain kept me from seeing the moon, but I did capture it the night before.

 

curvilinear

curvilinear close up s

curvilinear magnetic

curvilinear s

The Oracle was simple and direct today.  Humans aren’t in the picture at all.

brown
earth seeds
listen to winter

roots
grow between
rain and sun

ancient
light tendrils
green through birdsong

full
into bee
deep summer air

Nina and I used to collaborate with the Oracle on a semi-regular basis.  I’m hoping we will do so again soon.

(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.

 

nowhere to go (sailing the moon)

nowhere to go 2s

journey like a river,
found in the places
that are always home

sing the music of oceans
weaving patterns of mercy–
journey like a river

become part of each movement,
every path transformed,
found in all places

pass along what has been given–
ride the sky like the wind,
always at home

a channel of water flowing out to sea, with the sun reflecting on the water.

Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above, immediately made me think of Paul Simon’s “Peace Like a River”–and that made me think of “American Tune”–hence the 2 part title.  The poem is a cascade, always a good form when writing about water.

nowhere close up 2s

Sue titled her photo “Yearning” and I think that’s an emotion Paul Simon captures well.

…and I dreamed I was flying…

 

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

 

Wayfaring Stranger

wayfaring stranger s

It wasn’t heaven above surrounding me like stars
on a distant shore—I wasn’t a memory like stars

I had not become a child swimming in the sun, a sleepy
summer afternoon of endless play, swinging free like stars

Hovering in the form of an invisible crown,
it was not a hurricane holding its eye to me like stars

I was not a journey through the tunneled darkness
following the trail of all things hidden ghostly like stars

Becoming what I yet wasn’t, I crossed everywhere–
in a nameless endless shedding of all identity—like stars

A poem of wandering for Ammol at DVerse, in the current featured poetic form, ghazal.  I find the form to be somewhat awkward, but I’m beginning to think maybe that’s the point of it.  It mirrors the thought process.  Or maybe I just need more practice at writing them.

wyfaring stranger close up s

 

Reveiled

reveiled s

We are tracing broken shadowed dreams,
lines that curve and end up on the edge–
these places that come back
and close the door

Lines that curve and end up on edges
that cannot be reached
through any door–
both sides spiraling

They cannot be breached–
they remain, still, abandoned
by both sides, spiraling,
bathed in an untranslatable light

They remain still, abandoned–
we freeze them into frames
bathed in an untranslatable light–
we want to keep them safe, unchanged

We freeze them into frames
that hold our lives like clenched fists–
we want to keep ourselves safe, unchanged,
imprisoned in a maze of rooms

We hold our lives in clenched fists
that deny the landscape of after–
imprisoned in a maze of rooms
from the country of before

Lost in the landscape of after,
these places come back
from the country of before–
we are tracing broken shadowed dreams

transition

A pantoum for Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above.

reveiled close up s