Thursday, October 30, 2014

When 18 days without you fit in one hour...

 Anne Sexton
Anne Sexton ~ ~ by PointBlankDesign

                             I’m reading “Eighteen Days Without You” by Anne Sexton

What’s important –
how the day’s sad events
influence our inner
world, even when
we’re so far from
feeling the sorrow
because the happiness
is our given natural
gift, and else –
we’re loved…

So, the first, second days
made me got starving
for kiss, though in
the book it was
goodbye kiss
after which she slept
under bird’s shadow,
and I was wondering
when shadow’s dying
every day, do we
necessarily feel
the loss?

think about:
everyday loss-pattern
makes us
to our real personal
failure, or what’s real

Dead rabbit on the road
on 3rd day
just added the
sorrow to what
I see everyday…

The last leave in December,
light rain, ice-storm –
hope they are yet events
of far, far away…
but can I trust
temporary mild Minnesota’s

Searching like walking
along the other
December pages
I find facsimile of
 past winter snow
weeks after weeks
birds’ traces
under the  window,

‘the world sealed in’
sounds like revelation
the white envelope
of human content,
the vagaries  of the
dictate some
bottled choking mood…

Though I’ll remember
the cicadas in October
back then at South
you asked me to play…
how I got chilly and

Then I think
you're mostly a fish
laying low
no ripples above you
except the beams
highlighting the
inspiration and
wisdom of vacuum…

and I realize that
a world exists in us
rather than opposite way…

I’m bending, arching, turning
(tenacity exercise)
the page, last 18th day…
painting face & diagnosing
love as disease,
asking to go slowly, delicately
with music, for which
she and I was born…

Wednesday, October 29, 2014

All the ways we find at an eternal war…

We went vast vibes
nested sounds
swaying and spinning

masculine energy
entwined in
symphony and dance

feminine energy
rooted in
pentacles and seeds

tides died, born again
dreamed of correlation
through interference…

diffusion streams
exploded vulnerability
created solutions

cold air masses
promoted division
of beams, but

invisible memory chip
extracted in consciousness
at bodiless times

keeps us connected
at distance

lurking at ichor
origin, kinship…
blood – not water

does cripple, break,
give a birth of new…

Read more at: Three Word Wednesday, d'Verse, Mid-Week Motif

Monday, October 27, 2014

I will ride epilogue before apocalyptic end….

Image ~ courtesy of Tess Kincaid

Oh, those frivolous
speedy toes
worn warm socks

to roots
walked on
the poppies
at the age
of 13
with no boots

as if strange
out of blue
literary prompt
with no coffee –
not true.

by Brenda Warren

Sunday, October 26, 2014

Fallen leaves waltz

'The Singing Butler' by Jack Vettriano

self world
fell down leaves

in ancient
keep secrets
codes, shades

I match
palm to palm
heart pumps

Read more at: Sunday mini challenge, Waltz Wave form 'Play it again, toads' presented by Kerry O'Connor

Friday, October 24, 2014

I remember us sliding in the morn to the center of attic hays under butts…

Pilgrimage ~

I’m breaking the 'walls'
the words become healing pyramids
radiating fluids premonitions,
the boulders/rocks thru the fast river,
lighthouses on the long way home…

at  pilgrimage constricted/projected path
discouraged hearts looking to cling
for bell’s tongues, rehearsing possible exit…

we’re walking among fields:
pain swaying from joints to brain
“How long left to walk?”- “See the tall pole
on the horizon there?...”

we’re happy, collecting our bodies and soul
more tired - the faster we walked
dancing, singing – musicians within
plucking the strings, extolling Mary, the holy

reaching the pole, retreating once more
till blurry eyes see the barns giving us
a shelter for night…

 5 a.m.
…and ahead we go…

Read more at: PU Mid-Week Motif: One Day in the Life of...

Thursday, October 23, 2014

To connect

Looking for ways to connect
present & future
connect the dots
magnetic balls
reaching the target
not touching the walls
building the bridge
pick-up sticks and blocks
little change
the walls
idea in the air
listen for crust
sounds in spare time

Read more at: d'Verse Meeting the bar ~ I've got a little list

Tuesday, October 21, 2014

No ripples

Old little brook. No ripples.
Just drifting leaves like drifting
Thoughts, and deeds await…

Before new storm strikes
Unfinished ventures’ voice in
Dreams…For change we crave…

Sunday, October 19, 2014


Mag_242 ~ courtesy of Tess Kincaid

We steel to shine
as diamonds? – crazy
martyrs of self-dreams
we seer our victories
in argument for sake of it…

Such prisoners of childhood
at twilight
play secrets with a shadow,
pretending we can’t hear
a stranger/soul’s

Sunday Whirl

Read more at: Sunday Whirl , Magpie Tales

Shared with PU Poetry Pantry 

Saturday, October 18, 2014

Eve Tempted

"Eve Tempted" Marble @1877 by Hiram Powers

She breathes abundance…
Whether left or right -
her hands grip heritage-
the one,- divine surmised,
she’d never catch…

Eve sends to serpent vivid smile,
forbidden fruit is twice desired
eternity…at any age.

Friday, October 17, 2014


'Lost Pleiad'(1884) by W. Bouguereau

Mythology pleiad
married impious king
mysteriously faded
missing in star cluster
mourning sisters of sky
Mediterranean fall
mellow shade reminds her.

Read more at: d'Verse Meeting the bar: Pleiades

Wednesday, October 15, 2014


Olive Trees with the Alpilles in the Background (1889), Vincent van Gogh

I witnessed their escape:
bodies curved - intense effort
to lose the burden of
and twitching
in fever of hoarded

Whether frightened of
imminent storm or
reaching the mountains,
the trees
were unwilling be tamed,
roots numb from standing so long,
bit rotten,- failed to hold them.

Reeling in the wind,
yet resisting, -
they already belonged
as a part of whole picture
to the brush of master…

Read more at: Three Word Wednesday, PU Mid-Week Motif

Monday, October 13, 2014

Fabric of truth

                               Quilting  Art by Valeria Hill

Wind’s murmur through
channeling wall
brings voices:
my neighbors’ late dinner,
the weather broadcast,
the buzzzzzz….
maintenance pulls motorcycle
leaving behind the clouds of dust

the strain in the drain is fixed,
the water went into earthen womb
the restless day rolled
in the evening bowl
filled with stars, stories
of spying moon
with ebbs and flows of glory
in crispy air of burning runes

they dipped  in erratic layers of
light concealed the truth
partly swallowed by hunting night
clinging to rain caboose  
aware of  fair fall fest
star fever gone at dawn
good place ,
spinning the fortune wheel
the heart pumping loud.

Read more at: Sunday mini challenge: Eugenio Montale,

Shared with PU Poetry Pantry

Saturday, October 11, 2014


Pack brains in trains
torture not the flesh
worn liquor uniform
lust lasts under

hypnotizing gimmicks
with lotion,
tease low emotion of
body machine

truth seen by discerning eye.

Sunday Whirl 182

Read more at:  Sunday Whirl

Friday, October 10, 2014


pic by iwbol shop ~ amazon

Blotting pen
taking purple flight
psychrolutes marcidus
the fathead sculpins
exploring deep waters
the margins – forbidden
due to guardian
having a cold bath.

blobfish ~

Read more: d'Verse

Sunday, October 5, 2014

Cossacks and Robbers

the blind lantern: cocooning...

"Reply of the Zaporozhian cossacks.." by Ilya Repin 1880-1891

”…maybe you also fantasize about
power, escape…”
E. Rinaldi

How you fantasized
to escape
while comfy
in mom’s embraces
no foreign invasion,

at neighbor gates,
games of
Cossacks & Robbers
first efforts
to resist
and take over.

Illusion of paradise -
you’re safe
under the
parents’ guise.

Just later
the twig gets thinner,
a voice - not so strong,-
songs - broken,
grace walks alone,
a passion flips over
into hatred's clone…

Out of comfort zone
we zoom in
the struggles,
comprehend the pain,
on illusion’ ashes
we confess
a self-disdain.

Hopefully, those days of misery
will pass as a lesson,
introduced to us
'a compassion'.

Friday, October 3, 2014

An ideal + 7

photo-design by Jody Schmidt 

You think...
if only everything
could happened
like in your drift:
the right kiln
on the right tinsel
open all the dotted lines,
and on the other sign
your worth of
accepted rumps
and roars
for happy… lima bean
would you be satisfied then?
for how long?
until you catch
the magpie
new spawn
at the correlation
of your extraterrestrials...

Note: my original poem An ideal

Read more at: d'Verse  

Wednesday, October 1, 2014

Excerpt 2

Right after the rain 
walked with a
wacky brush,
rusty leaves agony
whispering secrets,
the wisdom of life tree
before soul leap -

I follow the color-shift
ceremony -
umbrella closed,
press/cells to the ground
level with earthworm
to absorb the moisture,
decomposing odor on
the first day
of October.

Shared with PU