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.

Friday, October 28, 2022

Office



Like Zoo babies, born in captivity

know no wilderness

exists

Does the fly

high on the fifteenth floor

ignore

the tinted windows

as if a painting

of one dimension

not to mention

alley cats, stray dogs, the homeless

whose living room

is larger

than life-in the city

the concrete jungle is overgrown

with wildlife

wanting to escape

the vast unknowns.


Image credit by Carol M. Highsmith, 'The Transamerica Pyramid is the tallest skyscraper in the San Francisco, California, skyline and one of its most iconic" in Public domain c. 1980-2006, via Wikimedia Commons. 

Saturday, October 15, 2022

Time heals




Heavy loads lighten

With deposits and discards

Along the way

The body seems to know


What to do

when cut, shattered, broken

Takes care

of itself, well


Wounds heal, eventually

Even the inside ones

May mend

If treated


Kindly, Rest,

Until ready

to move 

On each step carries

One-One

step further away


From the point

Of impact.

In tact 

You must keep 

walking from Then.


Lighter with Less.

Changed for Good.

Humbled with Life.

Graced by...


Painting by Carl Holsøe, c. 1881-1936 in Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

Half-dozen Mud cakes

Back to wood decks, quarter-size spiders, webs, moss  and creatures stirring in the hollow nights Back to no side-walks and skirting into th...