Thursday, May 18, 2017

Anticipation is a state of tomorrow


because tomorrow our local farmers market opens for the season.  And I mean local -- as in walkable unless seasonal purchases too heavy with bounty.  Life can be sweet, can be healthy, can be non-toxic.  And life unfolds as roots dictate.  Soil -- believe in it.  Believe in the roots of words.  Love your Latin.

Wednesday, May 17, 2017

A few choice words in favor of the petite


Vegetables & poems unite.  Usually considered masculine, how extraordinarily feminine this carrot.  And the words?  As yet, undecided.  


Tuesday, May 16, 2017

Bread and a spread

and a star appears.  A carrot-top based chimichurri.  Perfect when the carrot greens shout "FRESH." And always, always good olive oil.  Have you noticed when a verb, a noun and a few of their friends show up on a page, a hue-ful poem might be ready to be served.  Might be ready to be savored.    





Saturday, May 13, 2017

Succulent


in more than one way.  Actually -- a succulent remade most luscious by the spin of color & chance. And water's magic mirror. Is that a byproduct of editing?  Or the processing of pairing tasty leftovers?

If I were an eagle...



From the sliding door window, looking toward Mt Diablo.  If I were an eagle soaring, I would zoom in on the Mariposa Lily (or butterfly tulips).  Those showy Calochortus.  Three blood spots in the shape of hearts.  The winged feasts on beauty.

Which words are eagle-like?  Which like Mariposa lilies?  What beauty shall I taste today?

Resting against unexpected backdrops



The unexpected backdrop -- whether the time of day and the ensuing sky or a marimba as couch. Think of bright-hued peppers in a salad of predominate green.  Or words which surprise across pristine white sheets.  You get the idea.  Perhaps, resting is more active than the eye takes in.  Is the I ever at rest?  Oops, did I mean "eye?"

Tuesday, May 9, 2017

The image is complete but the writing of it


isn't.   Not yet in the editing phase.  More like a salad being composed and the final touches yet undiscovered.  In the doing, a poem like salad gets done.  Gets served.  Here the writing is on the inside of an eyelid -- sparks of light and luscious comforting graphite.  Trust me, on the plate (not shown) there will be hue-vibrant tomatoes & yellow peppers. Perhaps, pea shoots.