Redwinged blackbird Calls -
Melody parts marsh reeds
And Whistles the ear.
I live by a farm
With roosters, green pastures and
Majestic Sunsets.
Ephemeral cloud
Obscures sun tinted mountain.
Pink winter sunset.
An Escher etching*,
Three worlds, One out, One on,
One under, hidden
Fir Centurions,
Perfect reflections upon
Dark, silted water
Bare but living sticks
Struggle through a murky wet
Branching in the sun
This is a reference to Escher's etching of trees reflected on
water with leaves floating on the surface and a fish swimming
beneath.
Decaying tree stump,
Flaking remnants feed new life,
Forest microcosm
Five felt-capped workers
Compost ochre red canyons
Of miniature scale
One hand tall seedling
Growing out of old tree toes,
Stretching towards Sunlight
Growing shack of grass,
Ceiling open to the blue,
Hides my lazy calm.
Grasshopper mimics
Joints of long stalks; still before
My wondering eyes.
I pluck field daisies,
Small, earthbound, white petaled suns,
For a child's crown.
Air dancing to the
Melody of beating leafs
Beckons me to join.
Blossoms of cherry
No fruit will set,
Flowers of fairy.
The earth, two feet of snow does bury;
Cotton candy flowers will not quit,
Blossoms of cherry.
Gems of sherry
From within are lit,
Flowers of fairy.
Ballerinas to marry,
Sealed with a bee pirouette;
Blossoms of cherry.
Spring breezes will carry
Snowy petals bathed in sunset,
Flowers of fairy.
Tree with petals so airy
The dance the minuet,
Blossoms of cherry,
Flowers of fairy.
Midnight sky caresses my skin,
As bare, I walk on stars,
Phosphorescent sand, a holy demonstration.
I cartwheel and spin.
Self generated wind frolics with my hair,
As midnight sky caresses my skin.
Joy bubbles out in exaltation,
Swifting my legs to those of hares,
Over phosphorescent sand, a holy demonstration.
Firm sand ridges mimic the horizon,
A rolling sea. How it roars!
As midnight sky caresses my skin.
Dashing into the sparkling din,
A frigid wet that jars,
Beyond phosphorescent sand, a holy demonstration.
Dive and swim, my legs become a fin.
Through liquid space my body soars.
Midnight sky caresses my skin
Above phosphorescent sand, a holy demonstration.
Snow in spring
Whispers of sun through my curtain,
A glowing field of white.
Blossoming cherry, a pink cupcake
Iced with powdered sugar,
Snow in spring.
Evergreens bleached from above
Stand on emerald isles surrounded by a snowy sea,
A glowing field of white.
Flaring sun upon a stem,
Daffodils shine through a shower of down,
Snow in spring.
Inverted teardrops of ember and Tyrian purple*
With green spears pierce
A glowing field of white.
Green buds on a tree
Transformed to whip cream flowers,
Snow in spring
Creates a glowing field of white.
*A purple or crimson dye used by the ancient Romans and Greeks:
it was made
from certain mollusks, originally at Tyre.
Diamond sharp air unveils a spring marsh.
Curdled blue and smoky bark,
Ribbons of forest reflected on still water.
Pomegranate seeds strew the ground,
Fairy food on crumpled straws.
Diamond sharp air unveils a spring marsh.
Bodies swaying to an airy beat
Adorned with buds, signs of swelling warmth.
Ribbons of forest reflect on still water.
Leaf twinned by a liquid mirror.
Winds shatter the surface, snatching one away.
Diamond sharp air unveils a spring marsh.
Yellow night-lights brighten the afternoon,
Spring denizens with a stenchful name*.
Ribbons of forest reflect on still water.
Clouds cascade across the horizon,
Returning birds driving the winter North.
Diamond sharp air unveils a spring marsh.
Ribbons of forest reflected on still water.
*Skunk cabbage
I hang suspended,
Head burried in a salmonberry flower,
Dining on earthly ambrosia
My flowers dispense liquid candy,
Wages for a hummingbird courier.
Zipping to another fuschia lantern
I deliver my package and get my pay,
Salmonberry fuel for blurring wings.
Another's pollen withing me
My flowers begin to fade,
And salmonberries start to swell.
Wrinkly soft sunset wine,
I am plucked from my sun bathed home,
Placed in a pot for raspberry jam.
Birdsong cascades through the open window
Mixing with the smell of raspberry jam,
Bubbling rubies that I stir.
Over the fire I dance with my kin,
Swirling, blending, uniting
As sparkling raspberry jam.
Ding! The toast awaits.
Upon it I spread raspberry jam and bite,
Sunset rubies bathe my throat.
Orange juice spills up from behind the mountains,
Concentrated at first, then thinning to lemonade
As it bleeds out across the sky.
Like honey it oozes down to coat the waves.
The sea moves as a creature in a pleasant dream
With skin of liquid lead touched with gold.
Upon its surface congregate flocks of duck and gull,
Who rise with squawks or the whistle of wings
Climbing the cloudless sky, only to settle again.
A single loon bobs in the shallows,
Pausing to echo the morning with his call,
And a heron gazes at the water before her, spear at ready.
Crusting the mountain peaks with fire
As it emerges from their jagged womb,
A sphere of ghostly dancers too bright to see
Or the hair of a fair youth, blowing in the solar wind.
Orbed salamander scaling the dome of blue;
Brightening gray sand to a mosaic
Of amber, crystal and muscle shell grains
And graying driftwood tousled below living trees.
Alders edging the forest spread their sun collectors,
Like a stacked parasol for the ground,
Shading it from the noon time sun.
From beneath, the leaves glow, outlined in shifting blue.
Through the forest a mossy path leads from the shore.
Sunlight plays upon it like the flight of a bee
As it spirals away through the woods, each turn hidden.
Within the cushioned tunnel light softens.
A million candles dance across the plants
And leave the air glowing.
Around a bend the forest opens to a field
Of yarrow, vetch and rabbit nibbled clover,
Of prairie-thistles and daisies oranged by butterfly wings.
Across the meadow lie West rooted shadows,
The stretched out forms of an orchard in fruit.
Beneath the trees' spreading boughs,
Heavy with golden plums and sunset blushed apples,
Pillowed grass beckons to the travel worn
To rest and watch the sun go down.
The peach horizon melts like raspberry sorbet
As the ripened sun sinks below the trees.
Night advances, painting the sky in port,
Leaving frosty stars and a shepherd's moon
To illuminate the darkness.
BEYOND MOUNTAINS,
MORE MOUNTAINS -
Oz-like towers of tufa.
illuminated paper fish
struck by the erotic waterfalls
flowing like silver threads,
Wealth form a mountain's attic
settled on their current,
Have hummingbirds eluded
ripping walls apart
in rapid-fire Yiddish?
Birds with broken wings
recite poetry among the blossoms.
sky will do
to conjure the past.
times in goathair tents,
culture and the living land,
a hot summer day at sunset.
I WAS A LITTLE GIRL -
staring at the television screen and shouting,
hesitating between two mosques
with my ill-gotten gains.
GROTESQUE Christmas tree
to lead you down the garden path,
The Empty Space -
cloudless if possible.
THE WIND COMES SWEEPING
ROBES OF MEMORY,
RINGING IN THE EMPTY SKY.
Eyes like hesitant minnows behind tinted glass
come home with a fat lip,
barely perceptible bee sting.
The fortress is in danger!
in rejetion i remain.
no one else was interested in what I had had for lunch or dinner.
Born of clay, made what I am by the hand
Upon the fire of ridicule.
walking down the street in an unexpected place,
mulberry leaf becomes a silk gown.
humorous and inspiring Sunbeams,
Inscriptions in the clouds,
storm and not
to pluck the lute.
MYTH OF THE INDIVIDUAL:
leaving his long thumbprint swirling
issues become flattened.
girl merges with the rocks and silence;
the embrace of the lover,
ancient building blocks of today's galaxies.
my dear safransky,
EXQUISITE LIVING FOSSIL,
Gnarled monument to longevity,
light grows dim.
his eyes are cobwebbed,
brick wall of a cold-storage warehouse.
A plum leather sofa,
Ringside seat on eternity.
*I created this poem from magizine clippings, most of which
formed a whole line.
Black cat hour descends
Upon a field
Of wild weeds.
There is no light
Save that
Of baby powder stars,
And a golden ear
On its husk
Nestled in the embers
Of my drowsy fire.
Leaning toward the storm
On a pebbled shore,
My head encircled by
A billowing chestnut cloud.
Sand flurries from the ground
To pepper unwary eyes.
Ocean bristled with jagged waves
Tears at the slapping wind,
Which blows mist from the sea
Like miles of sounding whales.
Behind, a tree cracks-
Victim of an air cannon.
Broken power lines obstruct the road,
Like groping tentacles in a swimming pool.
I stare at the dim TV screen,
Nothing on but my reflection.
A cloud hangs over my head
Of erupting pink flowers,
The only cloud
In a periwinkle sky.
The cherry blossoms are
A suspended banquet
For small gentry,
Decked in suits of yellow and black.
Merry with their drinking
The bees hum, in chorus,
A welcome to the summer sun.
Pink tulip
With its petals
Centered green,
A fairy skirt.
I have seen it once before,
In a Dutch still life.
Shasta daisy leaves
Lick at the sun,
Forming a carpet of tongues.
A yellow tulip
Reveals one crimson thread
In its glossy weave.
Unopened bleeding heart
In the shape of an angel's silhouette.
Hanging from its stalk,
Pink as naked lips,
It clutches a slip of white,
A rain filled window
Shining opal like.
We passed through a field.
Bare legs tickled by feather duster grass.
Eyes brightened with buttercup reflections
And the blissful humor of life.
Forget-me-not
I'll forget you not.
How you looked upon me
With bright blue eyes
Beneath a robin eggshell sky.
At the lake's edge we left our clothes,
Emerging from air to be born into water,
Frolicking in condensed sky,
Water as warm and blue
As the embracing vault above.
The weight upon my shoulders
Lifts, to unfurl like wings.
My clouded brow clearing,
Arms embrace the sky,
A funnel to my brain
Down which pour
Sweets for the mind.
Distant thunder rattles
Through my jarred window,
A natural echo of yesterday's
Noise.
Insect vampires
Presented itchy welts
While about the sky
Whining lights
Tore at satiny dusk.
A bite for a boom,
A boom for a bite,
Accompanied by liquid sparks,
Throwing themselves
Against my window's pane,
Lulling me back to sleep.
Standing on the forward deck
I watch the ferry's hull
Swallow the sea
Beneath me.
I stare, hypnotized
By the water.
Tell me it is the child
Of cloud rimmed sky
And steel in silken motion.
Say that life has painted
A window into fairy lands.
For this water below me
Is somehow deeper
Than the waves
Of my childhood.
Down there is a mystery
For me to taste.
The water beckons.
I will fly through it's
Silken clouds,
If only in my sleep.