Tuesday, January 22, 2019

Poems from a Twitter Poetry Party

Tuesday, January 15, was cause for a reunion of sorts when Tweetspeak Poetry, part of T.S. Poetry Press, sponsored one of its famed, fast-paced Twitter poetry parties. Following are a few of the small tiny poems and remixes I created from words found among the hour's tweets, including my own. (And yes, I took a wee bit of liberty for reasons of grammar and meaning.) My thanks to Prasanta Verma for all her retweets throughout the evening and to player-contributors L.L. Barkat, Laura Lynn Brown, Sonia Joie, Sandra Heska King, L.W. Willingham, and Glynn Young. Go to Tweetspeak Poetry on January 29 and February 5 to read what Glynn has done with the tweets.


I hear the silvery trill
north of cold,

feel the chill of moon,
the frost of maple.

Elms whisper,
and all the woods

shiver.


When a willow turns
red, it is time

to shed
what autumn foretells.


The fall of rain on moss 
is nearly silent. 

Not the voice of a mother,
keeper of small poems.

Her weeping — no song
that lights upon the lips

like a gift of strawberries —
tastes like the ash

of fires long gone cold.

~

The gift of returning
makes fair each day

of a husband's absence.

~

The gift of weeping 
clears to understanding.

~

Beyond some invisible boundary,

where still-bare branches
trace the grammar

of animacy, the mother
weaves her stories —

grown long
but well-balanced and -constructed —

while braiding sweetgrass
at the hems of twined moons.

Hand-over-hand,
like circles and circles and circles,

she braids, humming

her gratitude, her allegiance
strong as a pecan shell.

~

The mother sighs,
losing her way

through the stories,

asks:

Do you hear the willows,
how their sounds of being

whisper the consolation
of water lilies?

Let me settle you. 
Let me settle you.

~

When is it easy,
this searching of earth?

More north,
the pines yield no secrets —
not of the keepers of fires,
nor of time

that draws to night.

The answer lies
in the space between

whispers,
where light that shines

upon the asters and goldenrod

offers the secret
of happiness:

a way back home.

Sunday, January 20, 2019

Thought for the Day


[. . .] if the heart has devoted itself to love, there is
not a single day of emptiness. [. . .]
~ Mary Oliver
___________________________

Quoted from "Honey Locust" in  Mary Oliver, New and Selected Poems, Volume Two (Beacon Press, 2005)

Mary Oliver, 1935-2019; American Poet, Pulitzer Prize and National Book Award Winner

"Listening to the World", Mary Oliver at On Being

Thursday, January 17, 2019

New Artist Watch Feature at Escape Into Life



Maggie Taylor, A World of Her Own, 2018
Archival Inkjet Print
© Maggie Taylor

PLEASE DO NOT COPY IMAGES


I'm pleased to introduce as January's Artist Watch artist at Escape Into Life the work of the highly accomplished and widely exhibited and collected Maggie Taylor.

Born in Cleveland, Ohio, and a resident of Florida since she was 11, Maggie makes an art of digital composites, employing computers, flatbed scanners, and small digital cameras to combine, recombine, and alter her layered images.

Today's Artist Watch features eight of Maggie's skillfully created images, her Artist Statement, which explains her artistic process, a biographical statement that includes some of the numerous museums that have collected Maggie's work, and links to Maggie's Website and social media.

Sunday, January 13, 2019

Thought for the Day


[. . .] Consider that there is no/
Grief or fear, but only forward movement/
Until movement is no longer possible. [. . .]
~ David Orr
________________________________

Quoted from David Orr, "Inflatable Pool" in Dangerous Household Items (Copper Canyon Press, 2018)

David Orr, Poet, Columnist for The New York Times Book Review, Professor of Poetry and the Practice of Criticism, Rutgers University

Sunday, January 6, 2019

Thought for the Day

Denial splits the mind, making one part
invisible to the other.
~ Chase Twichell
____________________________

Quoted from Chase Twichell, "A River in Egypt" in Things as It Is (Copper Canyon Press, 2018)

Chase Twichell, American Poet, Professor, Publisher (Ausable Press)


Chase Twichell Profiles at Academy of American Poets and Poetry Foundation