Friday, October 14, 2016

My Lyrical Ode to Bob Dylan



My poem was inspired by the following lyrics

The haunted, frightened trees, out to the windy beach
Far from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow
Yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free
Silhouetted by the sea, circled by the circus sands
With all memory and fate driven deep beneath the waves
Let me forget about today until tomorrow

as well as the complete article found HERE.


Even Sand is Sacred

The ocean was toiling
its same old
one-thousand-year song,
and two together, yet alone,
we squished the sand
between our toes,
those stiff beach stones,
pressed the backs of our eyes
into the gloaming hour
of a dark-cloud night.
Drunk on young
but never dumb,
We skipped pebbles
and drank cheap wine,
a steeple against the
sorrow of some tomorrow,
spoke to the pigeons and
other shore-swine,
a bridge to gap the hours
and I spoke subliminally,
pity for the harrowing life
in each lost feather, and he
rolled his eyes toward me
like two blue roaming runes,
whispered softly between the
firelight of each ticking second:
"You've got it all wrong,
as long as the stars are
on fire and the heart still moves
its steady beat-groove;
as long as we're alive
and still here, there's nothing
to lose, nothing to fear."


this poem was inspired by a prompt at dVerse.

Wednesday, October 12, 2016

Snow on Broadway

I know, October is a little early for snow.  The poem wasn't really inspired by weather, but by a strange mid-afternoon dream.  My head was full of migraine and so I slept.  I had the most serene dream of a snowstorm.  It was so ethereal and magical.  I stood at my bedroom window, staring into the black and white vignette of the most awesome blizzard I'd ever seen (well, outside a dream anyway).  The flakes were like these huge fist-sized shaped ice balls that exploded like frosty dandelions as they swam the air.  It was so magnificent that I had to write about it when I woke up.
And so here we have the poem.




Perhaps it was
the early October cold,
or my body full
of three-day headache,
but I dreamed of snow;
A headful of gloom,
Shiny white sky pieces as full as
the hugest dandelion bloom
shed their frost-flake into
windows like drunken-bugs
or dizzy moths swimming headlight.
Gray-black clouds stirred the sky
like a cauldron full of
black ice and snuffed the
rays of moon the way death
stifles a last, quivering breath.
I watched between curtains
spun of silk, mannequin-shiny
against the light-globes
of my townhome, a sort
of background halo, the stop signs
shaking their metal vertebrae
in the aftermath of wind,
thunder striking the edges
of street-light poles,
thick jackets of pedestrians
bellowing like fat capes
amidst the most ricocheting
type of silence, a mere murmur
against the whipping white-stone oblivion
as if the tail-end of some misty
apocolypses' rash scream
were sliding against the pane of glass
where my forehead rested
before the siren-wake
of realities telephone ring.


Shared with the Tuesday Platform at Imaginary Garden.

Monday, October 10, 2016

Consorting With Stars

Original Digital Art

The moon hung
by hinges, it's beams
swung the sky.
The wind sang a song,
a winter-bird cry.
Dead trees waved thin
fingers, a dead-root dance.
Time walked my heart
across a silver-spun wire,
stuffed my cheeks
full of clouds
and I swallowed stars.


Written for a prompt at dVerse.


Saturday, October 8, 2016

Micro Poetry

"She Reads Romance"  Original Digital Photo Manipulation

October Rain

Fresh croissants 
and too-hot coffee
have claimed the glory.
My knees are whisker-warm
and fleece-born.
The cat mews in the sleep
of his mouse-brown dreams.
I'm a red-eyed half-read
Joyce Carol Oates fantasy
and two lattes deep
in an early evening.
Clouds roll past
the window, a slow-motion boil.
 A storm teases the edges
of a blue-moon sky,
an October kind of rain.


Written for a lovely prompt over at Imaginary Garden.

A Witch-Black Night



the fallen leaves in the forest seemed to make even the ground glow and burn with light” 



The only black/orange themed elements I have are of creepy, witchy, scary things.
Created for a challenge at Take A Word.

Home After Dark


"The wind outside nested in each tree, prowled the sidewalks in invisible treads like unseen cats.
Tom Skelton shivered. Anyone could see that the wind was a special wind this night, and the darkness took on a special feel because it was All Hallows' Eve. Everything seemed cut from soft black velvet or gold or orange velvet. Smoke panted up out of a thousand chimneys like the plumes of funeral parades. From kitchen windows drifted two pumpkin smells: gourds being cut, pies being baked.” 



Created for a challenge at Digital Whisper.

Thursday, October 6, 2016

Noteworthy Links Tuesday

I haven't been around for a few months (sometimes life gets in the way of one's hobbies) but I'm trying to resume the regular 'Thursday Links' postings.

I used to make this section quite long...full of journals, zines, self-help reference and such.  Perhaps I'll do that later when I have more time to peruse the internet.

For now, here are some really interesting links I think you might enjoy:

1)   The TypeWriter Project - 'The Typewriter Project is a series of site-specific literary installations which invite passersby to join in a citywide linguistic exchange that exists in both the analog and digital realms...'

A typewriter booth, equipped with a 100-foot scroll of paper, is placed inside a booth.  Passerbyers of all ages and walks of life are welcome to partake in writing.  However, the project is also equipped with a USB Keyboard kit which allows entries from a plethora to of people to appear online as distinct pieces of writing which can be viewed as a collective whole, or in part.

I love this idea!  I wish my city had a project like this.

You can find a collection of the writings HERE.


2)  I Choose Beauty  is the way one brave, creative lady chose to battle chronic depression.

With the winter months lingering, her therapist suggested she start taking photos and documenting all the things in life for which she was grateful.  What proceeded was a vast collection of beautiful photos and a distinct collection of gratitudes posted via Instagram.

She Says:  I’m a very visual person, so I decided I would document the beauty I saw each day with a picture,” says Aker. “After only a week, I noticed a difference – I started to feel hopeful. Days went by, and I was hooked. So much so that I didn’t stop when winter was over. I kept going. I’m on Day 1,000 now

Her story totally inspired me to take more photos in honor of all the wonderful things in life I have to be thankful for.


3)  Epic Exquisite Corpse is a cute online app I found.   When you're feeling creative (or bored or restless or stressed), you can compose your own poem/drawing on their blank page.  It works sort of like an online Paint program.  By using your mouse as a pencil, you can write, draw, and express yourself, then save and share your drawing via their gallery.

It's great to relax with when you need a coffee break!


4)  You can watch Vincent Van Gogh's work come to life in THIS video.  It's a short video, but amazing nonetheless!  And while you're already there, why not go ahead and watch the full documentary of Vincent Van Gogh's life.


Wednesday, October 5, 2016

Sea Dances in Moonlight


a move of broken glass
black as polished leather,
burnt wood, the big shifter
that trembles steel under us,
the horizon hides above,
a curtain made of holes,
with stars around
the lost language of wind
howls of salt, tide at night.
~Leslie Philibert~


Created for A Digital Art Challenge at Three Muses.

Tuesday, October 4, 2016

'No Go' Wednesday

I was dazzled by the sky more than the date...


We dined inside an old Italian
place with chipped Spanish tiles and
walls stained from the
dew of some other woman's
'better days.'  A place with
leather seats stiff as old rags,
yet our ankles found the warm bone
of one another and I smiled
into his eyes, two spotlights caught
between a reflection of the
brightly-lit window panes and
the old phantom ache of some girl
who'd gambled his last eight years
for the bright lights of a
New York City night.
It was a tearful glassful of wine,
a story he wouldn't allow me to forget.
I stifled the double-edged swallow
of my throaty comebacks with basil,
ate a Gelletto made of Spain
and nervously twisted my fingers
into a fresh fistful of bruise
and bid the bore a Shakespearean salute
before walking my stilettos past
a maze made of concrete and stoplights,
corners where young girls smoked cigars,
flashy as something newly born
as the cold evening oozed it's dead-weight fingers
between the holes yarn left in my knit sweater,
my whole being a chest-full of headache,
wishing I could rewind this day
and waiting for the jingle beat of a message
for which I'd just as easily press 'delete.'
Tired of busy conversation,
meaningless as talk-show drone,
I turned my wayward eyes toward
the window of night and awaited the dazzle
of my old friend Mr. Crater Moon.
October born the sky a bedful of stars
and I had no other choice but to
walk the elbows of my thoughts
across the sharp, silk reverie like
a double-crossed heart on old knees.


written to a prompt shared at dVerse.

Monday, October 3, 2016

Of Bulbs and Stars: A Haibun

Fall is my favorite time of the year, particularly the most enjoyable for walking the city.  My favorite time to explore is early evening...it's light when I walk into the city, and darkly mysterious against the streetlights as I meander my way home against the backdrop of bulbs and stars.

Here is that moment, captured in the words of a Haibun.





Early evening turns the city into a universe of streetlights.  The smoky alcove of each lamp showcases a cast of shadows, playwright directing light.  Inside the crystalline void of a lone bulb, a firefly beats his wings into the wire.  He spins, an ethereal glow against the first wink of the moons edged smile.  Translucent as a wood nymph, I am but foot-stepped bone matter amongst the backdrop of bulb and star.

For a moment I dance into the light
infrared as a still-life photo
as I walk into the infinity
of a brick-and-mortar horizon.


Written for the Monday Haibun prompt at dVerse.