Last night at the Greenfield Annual Word Festival: 6 stages of spoken word wonderfulness, presented by Paul Richmond of Human Error Publishing. The goodness!
I was privileged to read my poems for an audience in Emily Dickinson’s house last night.Yes, that Emily Dickinson.Still pinching myself this morning. Which resulted in this:
So much love for my Florence Poets Society comrades.Thank you to the Emily Dickinson Museum for the opportunity to read.
And much love to wonderful poet and friend Maggie Butler, from whom I received quite a shock (as I thought she was across the ocean from Amherst, at home in Dublin) and several hugs.
Throwthat poem in the trashthe one that makes your lip curllike it actually stinksrancid words radiatingoff you so intenselyjust from spending a little timewith that damn poemthat you’re compelled to strip downand launder its wordsin hot waterwhich is where that poem came fromanyway
Flash 55 Plus for Real Toads!
Rocket shipsare excitingbut so are roseson a birthday.-- Leonard NimoyRoses deliverbut so does a chicory spraysweaty-grippedby a toddler
Diamonds excitebut so do love songsscrawled in chalkacross blackboard sky
Love's lyricneeds no bylinewhen adorned with adjectivestattooed above the heart
The etymologyof our love affaircan be traced from the airlike cropmarks
Today is the 50th anniversary of the Star Trek original series! This is cause for celebration at my house. I wrote this poem a couple years ago, I think before Leonard Nimoy passed away. It is published in my most recent book, Heart Container. Live long and prosper!
Shriek of blue jaysand a good ole American crowwoke me on Labor Daydropping the flag on next season.I could cry.It’s just too fast,the passing of plays. Just unfair,half-time of my half-centuryarriving as I still resist adjusting.Not ready yet for cheerleaders,courting by a chorus of crows.
Flash 55 in the Imaginary Garden!
Peekingthru sigh-lensesblurs edgesconvexes centerslike funhouse mirrorsbloated without contextIt would be kindertaking the long viewbelongingas youphotogenicallydespite protestations doMaybe trya wide angle lens
Music day in the Imaginary Garden: LITTLE TINY by Brandi Ediss
Child:Chilly,I pulled onyour blue sweatshirt.Zipped up, it fit well!I wish I could captureforever your reaction,beaming at me, recognizingyourself in grown-up me,your motherbeaming back at you,wishing this would last.
Late entry for Kerry’s Micro-Poetry prompt in The Garden.
All day Facebook admonished me to help celebrate my friend Robert Lipton’s birthday, so I share this poem written in his memory. It was published in Silkworm, the annual review of Florence Poets Society, last year.
Sharing this makes me think about a lot of things, including (1) I wrote a poem with a word I can barely pronounce (paean) in Bob's honor (guffaw), (2) I hear his words in my head "Death, the great poetry prompt" as I listen to this, and (3) I miss Bob.
I pulled this fortunethe day you died:What is the distancebetween the eyes and the soul?You know the answer.How did you learn to pronouncethe hard words, which goddessesare whom, the rhythm of line breaks?We all listened. Did you know?Your paean to women made me wishsuch words were strung togetherand hung on my limbs.Now you travel that distance,somehow we expect you to report back.We will miss your soul, your lip.
When a space opensin your heartmyriad soul-squattersrush to occupySorrow’s muse deploysa kitten-topped roombaspreading distractionto every cornerNo room for reflectingwhen every imaginingis an exercisein deft deflectionHiding in shadowsreal memories hole upjoined by assessmentsin emotional siegeIt’s no wonderyou are easily convincedof an alternate worldwith dusk-brimmed battleswaged behind your eyes
Read & share poetry today at The Tuesday Platform in the Imaginary Garden!
There’s a thronein this morning’s cloudsfrom which I imagineAthena observesskirmishes with no purposeolive trees rot roots upwar with no end
She knowsthere’s no slowing this marchno wings can lift usabove inevitable despairThe mind of God is blankand no blue remainseven above the clouds
We breathethe same aircologne & sweatrippling-roundtil fear seeps inadrenalineblood & deathhorrordespairin the endwe breathe sweet air
*Monday note: I've edited this and like this version much better!
Kerry called for short poems on the subject of Death and Night. This is also responsive to Izy’s prompt to write from a recently received text message (my first line here).
Am thrilled to have a poem in the inaugural issue of Nice Cage, a new, gorgeous, very cool literary magazine. Fairly prescient that the issue's theme is Predator/Prey and the magazine's tagline is "Enjoy Being Human." It's awesome to be published alongside comrades Kerry O'Connor, W.K. Kortas, and many others excitingly new to me. Hearty congratulations and thanks to editor and co-founder Isadora Gruye.Take a look: Nice Cage
I’m thinkingof demanding spousal rightsto your gallbladderwhen the surgeon takes it out,bringing it home in my purse,one stone for an earring,one stashedin the locket you gave me,the last one under my pillowfor dreamkeeping,your name bile-tattooedacross my heart,flesh of the precious organburied deep in the dirtof the old angel-wing begoniathat’s flowered our marriage,spindly reaching for the sun.
Sometimes I feel likesome sad old goddamn songthat everyone knows the words tobut just won’t sing along--Charlie Chesterman, "Mister Blue"
Laughing girltugs her beater over her bellyoversharesearns a stage shout-outis easily amusedseemingly cheerfullike baby’s breathin a carnation bouquetShe is rain on Sundaybag of kittens in the rivercalliopelast call banjoat Nico’s Recovery Roomstumbling down Highland Avethree flights upto an empty bed
Flash 55 for Real Toads!
Baskin the marvelousincongruity of Maywith her ragesand jewelsjoysmixed with catastropheShe is a rare giftnonpareilcreamon hemorrhaged lipstaciturn yet stylishblueirresistiblesyncopated and swanlikeBest make tracksor tumble headlongmaybe both
|(OOAK ART doll by Lina Macijauskiene.)|
I learned about the fantastic art dolls of Lithuanian artist Lina Macijauskiene from my friend Jori, who owns the one in this photograph. Isn’t this doll wonderful? I love her.
More dolls at Lina Macijauskiene’s Etsy store: LinaMacijauskieneART
Jori’s cool blog: Shivers of Delight
Sharing this at the Tuesday Platform in the Imaginary Garden.
P.S. I turned FIFTY on Sunday. What!?!