Wednesday, December 17, 2014

Qs

2 Qs PRETENDING TO BE 1

How does light paint itself
green
or as an eyebrow
of dust?

I think of questions as petite poems. I love questions as much as I do seasonal fruit.  Speaking of seasonal fruit, here's Alice Steele's inspiring photo which she massaged in Photoshop.  It's that Mexican Christmas Tree in my earlier blog post, "Happy" -- scroll down.

Thanks, Alice!

Happy Holidays and may 2015 be one of happy questions & ripe fruit for each of us.


Photo by Alice Steele

When


3X WHEN

when she turned the page
into the forest
she fled

when they ate
the fish,
they tasted sea

when it rains
it is time
to protect snails


and when the writing done, she wandered into the kitchen

Filament


FILAMENT & FRAGMENT #7:  Rain

seeps into
the dream, all
the pebbles
wet

for this
for that
she wept
or didn't

Happy

Photo by Alice Steele
happy
is
she
whose
world,
whose
dreams
include
brightly
hued
fruit

same
is
true
with
a
poem

same
true
of
a
meal





Relationship

Love at first taste & that's my relationship

to snap peas.
And who
doesn't love
these green gems
for their name.   

Snap peas
the tastiest haiku
I can think to put
in my mouth.

Here snap peas
find community
among sauted
red onion,
barbequed
pork w/mustard
horseradish,
soy, &  yes,
fuyu
persimmons.




Gift

here's haiku's newly spiffed up royal bed which he gifted to the magnificent Mr. Dumbledore.
So don't think what's empty is really empty.  It holds tender dreams.  And more to come.

Just as paper is full of words.
Just as the dish remembers its last meal.

Sidewalks

I love sidewalks for their unexpected treasures.
Here in San Francisco's Mission District,
this magical & magnificent creature.
Hidden, yet accessible.  And totally green.
Makes me want to eat spinach for dinner.
Makes me want to make a greening poem.
Makes me love walking.

Ground



Drops of rain make ground
of a succulent.  
As paper for a poem.
As a bowl for the next meal --

 tofu, sauted shallots, orange pepper, snap peas,
spicy black bean oil, soy, jasmine rice
with a side of sliced fuyu persimmons.  


Full


moon!  
Rain & clouds.
Full
love for this city.
Sometimes a city
is a feast
and sometimes
when you look
with a gleely
gasp --
an edible
haiku





Folded

Origami crane tree for World Aids Day @ Grace Cathedral, SF

Hope is in every fold,
in every poem
spoken with
loving kindness.
In every persimmon
peeled & shared.  

Mix


Sometimes it's essential to mix things up.  Even in a salad.  You think you'll be eating a spinach salad with lavender-scented pasta.  Low & behold, with a simple twist of the fork, you reveal golden & red beets, persimmon, mint and look very carefully for a few choice walnuts.

Now, what about poetry?  Sometimes the poem is screaming at you, sometimes it whispers to mix up the lines.

Whether word or salad (or both) -- eat well.




Advent

Preparation.

In the event of rain.
In the event of snow in Muncie.
In anticipation of a fine stir-fry-


chicken stir-fry with cashews,
snap peas, mushrooms, garlic,
ginger, soy, & fuyu persimmons

and the last poem written
honors the fuyu

Pause

for an afternoon coffee with candle
& admire haiku's paws
& contemplate
what needs
writiing 
& what
will be 
dinner?