Saturday, January 28, 2023

Pinned down

 



...perception is us

not manifest

destiny or dream

boards and images

attached.



Artwork by Anonymous Unknown author, 18th century, in Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

Saturday, January 7, 2023

Storm front

 



Nor did I chase

the storms, even as 

they came for me, that way


Did not run

for shelter stops


Nothing

we wed in between

such pouring days

as if a window


Opened

to a raw and fresh world

Where death and birth

dwell in unison


A reddened dawn 

bled deep

into horizon lines, gashes,

words of warning defined

Old

wives tales,

words of prophecy

fairies and fantasies,


Or metaphor

like We could be

Happy, sirens.


Thoughts as thick as 

Mammatus

dissipate for clearer 

skies shall 


Pass

Blinding truths

anyway...


For now 

I stay shuddered

while wet and wiser

atmospherically.

 

Painting by Hart, James McDougal, 1828-1901  (artist); 'The Storm is Coming' L. Prang & Co. (publisher), Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

Tuesday, December 27, 2022

Pandora and the Barfly




He buzzed by
Then circled back around and
Hovered,

Swirling and dashing

only more agitated,
making insect demands
before landing- quite hurriedly.

He begged for the 

Fair Maiden to
Open Up, prying and poking

around.
She refused, stalling and countering-

'It depends upon how you carry me'-
she offered and dared.

Relentless in circles,
Fruitless nonetheless no movements
no lift nothing was felt.

She did not even know

Herself
All that was contained
Inside. Why
No smell crept out and still-

Attracting
So many flies, diligent and
short-lived, by Nature.


Light seekers and crap keepers,
Yet none, not a single one, 

nor a swarm
would lift her 

Wait. 


Painting by Édouard Manet (1832-1883),  'Un bar aux Folies-Bergère' c. 1881 in Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

Christmas Presence

 

 

I am here 
Warm blooded
In the icy dawn.
Pink blush to periwinkle blues
Paint the sky
Behind eyelashes,
Barren branches,
Heavy hearts hung high
Not just I 
sigh, exhale
thinking only of 
Others
whose day holds heavy fruit,
Hugs, in deep loss and great gains
ripe and rotten. I
Inhale the sharpness of
Those warm with love and
Those hollow in hopelessness.
Those that have just arrived,
Those that have long left,
Those that remain
In this familiar temperance
I feel
Here. And there
Goes, swift as the hours,
enduring as years
Ends and Begins
all Over and
Again.
 
 
 
Artwork by Hans Makart 1840-1884), 'Abundantia the gifts of the earth' in Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

Friday, December 2, 2022

E. Pifanny



I was more in

Love with the 

Place than the man.

-I thought-

Humans are complex,

Addicted ones are

Predictable.

I think-

If you are not given

More than you think you can handle-

then how would you know-

How much more

You could...

I figured,

Turning a blind eye

makes you 

Feel more than

hind (in)sight like fore-

shadowing.

I realized,

Loss enhances the value of 

What you have, irreplaceable or

simple, nameable, and not.

Holding on to 

Nothing is free

falling-

Until 

I knew-

Everything

Lands

Home again

Like a name you've never heard, but

Think you know or a place

You've never been and find 

Yourself in

Love.


Painting by William Orpen (1878-1931), 'The Eastern Gown' c. 1906 in Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.


Sunday, November 13, 2022

Vanities



All fires die

down

from embers to ash

retardant and uniform.


Our face and fingertips

warmed when close

once upon those times of

burning.


This glow, you know

attracts more than

the dark and cold that surround

our rituals.


Smoke follows beauty,

we all know 

while choking

back tears

it escapes and rises above

the flames.


The words were carried,

the intentions swallowed,

the time was wasted

watching and waiting

while warm

sparks blink.


Stoking and smoldering

somewhere inside

the pit 

we all knew these bridges

suspend more than belief. 



Painting by Nikolai Astrup, c. 1909 in Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.





Friday, November 4, 2022

How clear up here



To be free

whether winds

push or pull

To Be sure

one cannot fall...


Further


Delight lies

in the details.

The Raven and the grasshopper

see you seeing them


Alone

and altogether such...


simplicities and cycles

remain


Elemental.


Artwork by Louis Agassiz Fuertes, 'Nightjar in flight' c. 1910-1914 in Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

Tres (trace)

Water Today, warm raindrops glass blurs, the blurry glassy, sharp sparkles sugar. Behind Evening, it was good. Leaves all turned into shadow...