Thursday, April 26, 2018
and admires its reflection. When a salad looks at itself, what does it see? Which ingredient does it recognize first? Is it true, poems are partial to prepositions & the particulars of gender?
Wednesday, April 25, 2018
All that's necessary to take in the day. A conversation. Eavesdropping, of course. An underbelly of spinach & a memory of raspberries. See & hear and words will follow. And if this is not in an act of eavesdropping, well, you'll find a poem by noon.
Monday, April 23, 2018
doesn't disrupt or derail the majestic beauty of these bearded irises. Their composure makes them immune to any barking disturbance. Fragile & strong commingled. A perfect balance like the perfectly crafted martini. Vodka, of course. With a twist. Soon it will be a good friend's birthday
with poems aplenty & gestures to grow on. Perhaps, Goldfish the hue of pollen.
Especially when multi-color carrots are given center stage. You never forget the first time you cut into a purple carrot. Rewarded again by color. A dish of sautéed multi-colored chopped carrots with walnuts, basil, garlic, black pepper, olive oil & the slightest drizzle of Balsamic vinegar. Sight for sore eyes. May all poems see into themselves this vibrantly.
Saturday, April 14, 2018
Friday, April 13, 2018
Magical, this circling. Mother nature arising kinetically. Wish I could say that for each line of poetry I've written. Maybe, I'm using the wrong kind of ink? What can I put in today's salad to pay homage to the quiet rose & that that hearty yellow? To be determined -- soon.
It isn't usually thought that shadow is as downright cheerful as sunlight. But look at these blooms. In light and in shadow they optimistically glow. Carrots are known to brighten a kitchen. Lemons, too. Certain words, too, will brighten or dim a poem. Color, something you can't quite grasp but it surrounds us -- inside & out.
Wednesday, April 11, 2018
25 feet but who's counting? Yucca treculeana. Showy, over-the-top gorgeous. Reminds me of a salad that becomes bountiful by the use of leftovers. Like inserting a line of an existing poem into a new one. Yup, no height restrictions to beauty and beauty is in the leftovers. And here's the phrase from that poem, steadfast fragility.
Monday, April 9, 2018
April can and can't be the cruelest month but without question, April is National Poetry Month. Like beauty, words are a reflection and they know how to sail. Words also absorb light. Continuing in the purple vein (as in prose), consider the eggplant & how deliciously it absorbs olive oil & crafts a perfect sentence with tomatoes & basil & garlic & feta & walnuts.
Thursday, April 5, 2018
and sees straight-away into rocks. While trees may have spores, rocks like potatoes have eyes. So the next time you dream, put on your rock-eyes; relax and let memory wash over you. Don't be surprised when you encounter an old woman with the shape & scent of rosemary. Dreams are like this. So are poems both in the writing, editing & reading. So is making a meal for people you love.
Grab some rosemary, the potatoes await. Your friends are hungry. Yup.