Posts for 2020 (page 6)

I wanted to write a poem about the solstice
but the tongues of twilight—
flap of umbrous bats & staccato
creak of spotted tree frogs—
urged me out by the pond
where the white lilies
waited & water
hyacinths waded,
their feathery roots
waving just
below surface.  

I wanted to capture the violet moments
before the velvet cape
of night draped itself
over copse & cloud,
limb & vetch,
bird’s eye
& blade.  

I wanted to tell you that this longest
day leaves an aftertaste
of lavender & plum
in my mouth even
as January falls
hard as steel
brittle as brass
around me.  

Gather nightshades bliss
infuse with hemlocks laurel,
a potent potion

Melodic moments
a glance? Or a chance? She thought,
of melodies touch

Drifting consciousness
Flowing as madness unchained
Coup de’état untold

(…A brief instant which seemed torn
from a Pushkin play, was it Boris Godunov? Or was the motive political in nature? A stanza from “Ode to liberty”?

Perhaps she had grown tired of male incompetence, theft of the feminine ideas, trying to be bought off with petty returns…)

Ellipses eclipse
a sacrilegious swan song
crafted condition

Her eyes drifted back
to sun-kissed hair shimmering
amongst cold waters

Gentle touch of grace
female hands agreed to meet
an embrace of risk

A simple notion
loves greatest potion, a kiss
whence nightshade lingered 

I.

My favorite orienteer presents
a welcome off-topic question
in the undissolving
of my pain over things
I can’t control-

If you could replace the faces on our currency (for some clear cut reasons) what would you replace them with?

                              [Small brainstorm]

                              Animals teaching
                              home economics
                              and basic math and science.

                              Yours?

Care Bears
                              Awww. I love it, Tenderheart!!

Totally… no sex, no race, all the colors, each one an aspect of a positive emotion

                              You’re so cute. I love you.

And making it rain…. joy, happiness, love, kindness, tenderness, bravery etc etc

I like the idea of throwing them on money to remind all the adults about the simple wonderful things of life we tend to forget

                              [The Care Bear Stare Gifs]

                              So when I was 5
                              I flew to Disney, Cali.
                              I have been reminded many times
                              I spent most of the flight
                              looking hard at all the clouds
                              searching for Care-A-Lot.

That’s awesome.

                              I’m teary RN.

                              I know. How sweet.

Question:
Do you think you ever stopped looking?

                              I didn’t have to keep looking,
                              I am Care-A-Lot.

II.

sometimes an orienteer
and a jester
and a King
resemble one ranger.

III.

Confession: Three storms are in
and out of my horizon. I call them natural.
One Anger. One Baffling. One Familial.
I tell him I know they are not endless.

Before the moment passed, he says:
Don’t tell that to the Big Red Spot in Jupiter.
That’s the Honey Badger of storms.
And our whole planet can fit neatly inside of it.

IV.

Most journeys
are made thru a few
turbulent skies.

V.

Delight is medicinal.

The Universe is made of stardust,
emptiness, storms, planets, and delight.

Dad hated the way she drove
that car. An Isadora Duncan,
long scarf flapping
with devil-may-care 
in the breeze.
I sat on a stool next to her,
riding shotgun.
Together we rode searching
for adventure.
Dad stayed home 
alone.

Workshops With Gurney

First
the miles rolled out before me
          and behind me.
Excitement drove me.
Who would I meet?
What would I learn?
Would I return with more
          than I came with.

I was younger
          naïve in many ways
          with no real understanding
of where I was going
          or why.

Hills and valleys
          wide roads then
          narrow ones up and down
to places foreign to me.
But when I saw
a familiar face
I felt at ease.

A little later
          around the table
          with strangers
I realized we spoke the same language.
          Some with a different cadence
          some with a different tone …accent…

I felt alive.

Hours
around that table
led to words strung out
across pages and pages…
          with ideas and images
I never knew I had.

I fell in love.
          I fell in love with
          the place
          the people
          the words
         the ideas
         the dreams.

And I knew
the smells
         the mountains and
he words oh, yes, the words and
          myself.

Years passed and
yet we still came back
to those same trees
those same hills
knowing this time
it would be different. Yet we knew the treasures
we would leave with.

Now
today
years and tears
          later we sit together
          in a different place
with the same hopes
always fueled by the love
          Hazel Green
          showed us.

We change with the seasons
but we never changed
the need to return.

Tony Sexton

I counted thirteen lawn ornaments

in the yard

of the house            at the end of my street

a chipped grey cement kitty cat

a mossy green scaly smiling dragon

a round purple pig       nose tilted          up to the sky

a sprightly yellow rabbit    tall on his hind legs

a pair of hollow white washed talking heads

a shiny bespectacled blue grasshopper riding an orange bike

a white carousel horse with red saddle and gold merry-go-round post

a boy clutching a UK blue basketball

a tan sad clown with permanent concrete tears

a rainbow VW van complete with weather worn gnome atop

a brown squirrel nibbling a turquiose nut

a cotton candy pink angel with a broken wing

all i learned about myself 
is that i am fluent in the language of anger.
i know that i see myself 
in the mirror of everyone’s last words.
i understand that the flames hurt
but you have to feel if you want to burn.
i’ve found out about the cage you put them in
and how it holds you close at night.
i’ve uncovered the mystery of how
there are mistakes but no errors.
i see now that you cannot win 
if you aren’t playing the same game.

(after Stanley Kunitz and Stephen Burt)

We think we know what the child does not:
the dead do not come back
time moves in only one direction
what goes down into the earth does not come back up

We think we know that what appears gone
will not come back recognizable
or until it is too late

But the child still knows what we have forgotten:
Halley’s Comet is the same comet each appearance
all things in the universe move in a spiral, including time
everything returns exactly when it is supposed to

Just heard my old friend died.  I hope
she allowed her mind to be happy
in those last days, that she didn’t go
out stingy and bitter.  I hope she could 
be grateful for all the gifts, the life
she had.  I hope she could wrap herself
in white light and float away.