Tuesday, February 21, 2017
Monday, February 20, 2017
The answer is simple. Light, of course. Because a question always begets another, we see the image above and what words are appearing?
And the intersection of image & hunger? What will you eat for breakfast? And what will the image of avocado on toast inspire in words. Something green & buttery.
2/19/17 on misreading a line
all else is butter
Saturday, February 18, 2017
a lizard walked into a patio and found the spine of a snail quite comforting. a good place to soak up the sun. the spine of the snail seemed to be okay with it. much like a spoon is okay with stirring soup. the pen left in the spine of a book soaks up a poem
Wednesday, February 15, 2017
This reflects a poem's experience, too. A poem wants to do the seeing and wants to be seen as as the sum of its abstraction. Where exactly is a poem's iris?
Now shall, we move on to contemplate beets?
Tuesday, February 14, 2017
Sure, there's sugar in grapes. Indisputable. There's also gratitude. Just take in that uplighting spirit, reaching for the light. And if these remind you of kidney beans? Good. Who hasn't been grateful for a well-seasoned bowl of beans.
Since it's Valentine's Day, here's a poem -- a tad dark, perhaps? Let's stretch for the light and call it a pillow poem.
as usual I left
the valentine on your pillow
I no longer believe
the dead can't read
Monday, February 13, 2017
Among the planned, the landscaped, comes the lone volunteer. I'm gaga for iris, in particular, the bearded ones. Probably the first flower that captured my delight in the otherworldly. Speaking of imagination, the iris below contemplates its stem in water.
I'm thinking of lunch and what bulb-like food, which tuber might tempt me.
This morning during a quietly spectacular sunrise, I sketched (with words) a rather darkish valentine. For some reason I want to tell you that.
Sunday, January 29, 2017
Sometimes it is the simple, repeated. Enlarged. Rotated. Time rotates light. I've heard it said, verbs rotate meaning and in the extreme can cause a metaphorical vortex.
P.S. Tonight's stirfry was a fetching confluence of taste & texture. Color, too.