Sunday, December 9, 2018

7 WDS


There is nobody
who goes unnoticed.



Time spent on memories
never returns more.



Together two words
leave space between.



Indulgence is for one
expression for all.



I see you
seeing me as you-

there are things
that cannot be shared.



A star, like the ocean
reflects light.



A speck is not one
of anything.



What is possible
has a chance too.



A full deck
is not limitless
luck.



Arrival is not the same as
presence.



Here we are
just now
and then.



Image credited by: Snyder, Frank R. Flickr: Miami U. Libraries - Digital Collections [No restrictions or Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.


Photosynthesis



To grow in the moonlight
               whispered the purple breeze,
daunting its profundity
                in a lilac lilt,
makes for the most sensitive
skin, the thinnest rays
               wasted across barren lands.

A tiny trio of skylights
show how syllables
need less volume
when speaking in
                         moonshadows
across open floors.

Grey becomes more than shade
when the pale moon
was more than enough
to still feel
growing pains.



Artwork by Ohara Koson [Public domain].

Summary of a shadowed moon


Struck with a new Idea,
I held onto it like a treasure map,
rolled up,
with the lines inside.

I carried it around
so long, wrinkles
were inevitable,
weathering and what not
made it fade.

After revisiting this place
I am lost a little,
afraid to start
wrong,
I fear it will not become
as I thought I remembered...

No mark would be made,
no footstep
impressed,
unless
anywhere I begin becomes
a starting point
that vanishes...

which made it obvious
to fill the space,
flooding it in white
so I could build it
by taking away.


Photograph credited by Jon Sullivan [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Saturday, December 1, 2018

Fertilizer


I distinctly remember
being told
when I was very small,
the plants and leaves,
of course flowers too,
but branches like
to be touched,
it moved me.

I wanted to spot
the stem bending toward the
rising sun,
I wanted to
believe

all things would benefit
from this sleight of hand,
a touching moment
or the gift
of genuine introduction
to irradiating warmth.



Painting by Grigoriy Myasoedov, 'Forest Spring' c. 1890, in the Public Domain.  

The hardest directions are the ones we follow


Take a left, or a right?
                          Go West-toward the ocean.
So, left or right?
                          Where are you now?
I'm in your neck of the woods.
                            I think you have gone too far.
Left or right?
                            Straight-toward the ocean.
I've come around the bend.
                            Drive-thru to the dead end.
Are there any land marks? I am lost...
                            If you keep going, you will find it.




Painting by Michael Zeno Diemer (1867-1939), Pera Museum [Public domain].

bird braned


small minded man
only capable of moving
one limb at a time
one a single plane

some said Stanley
explored out of his
comfort zone

and yet he is known
by other names
irrelevantly so.

The circle is wider than the sun
or, as the crow flies
across the radii
it would be a straight shot
between sight and
understanding
potential

the small-minded man aflit
fills his hands with too many
occupations,
he is past the limit
of how far eyes may be
set apart for depth perception.

After observing the same flight path,
year after year,
the soar-
ness sets in
and feathers fall off
my sides.

Painting by Paul Peel, 'Bringing home the flock' c. 1881, in the Public Domain.




thingamajigs


Call it crude
if you insist
to designate
that whose design
and functionality
seems rudimentary,
basic shelter
remains enough
for those requiring
little more than
distance from destruction.
Wallowing as we do,
from time to time,
the space becomes so small
between,
our feet become our shoes
and it was as if this was
plentiful,
the question of survival
posed as neither
safe nor sound.
Not saying
there were other ways,
and more than enough
to fill blanks
with trinkets.


Painting by: Anonimous french master previously attributed to Trophime Bigot. See official website. [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

(Bone pile)

My lips are sealed with  The caulk of deaf ears. Born for this. Lessons to be learned as chapters Turned  Over, like how to read our bodies ...