Thursday, August 23, 2018
Wednesday, August 22, 2018
Except when water is thrown into the mix. Think of it as spontaneous dreaming. Spontaneous memory. Portals appear like eyes in a potato. Like words in last night's poem. Quite watery, too.
Skin -- human & tree. Much in common. Also trees take on the look and feel of a torso. Suddenly, I'm thinking of broccoli with torso resembling trees. Leaps are like peels -- real, imaginary or potato. Speaking of peeling, once I wrote an ode to a martini. It was not potato-based. Oh, yes, it was a very cold ode.
Tuesday, August 21, 2018
Every object is more than its use. Think of a bike and the many miles each one travels. Even in the store before they are bought, a bike dreams of the journey. But how like a flower is the bike. Pedal to petal. Words, salads & dreams -- that's the journey. A bit of sun here and there, too. A spot of rain. One needs water, you know.
Monday, August 20, 2018
Glads are showy flowers but their beauty is straightforward take-it-in. Drawn right to the center. Like the seeds of a tomato. Like particular words in a poem. But which ones? Remember, seeds are verbs and a tomato is a fruit. Why not mix up a metaphor every week or so.
Saturday, August 18, 2018
A bit of yellow Gerber daisies and several varieties of tomatoes and colorful tissue paper and you have a bouquet of flowers & fruits. Think of this arrangement as a color alphabet. Of course, poems are arrangements of the alphabet as well as a bouquet of shape, color, tastes. A mixup of flowers & fruit & alphabet, yes, that's a poem.
And yet, the story is more complex. Basil, tomatoes, peaches, figs, goat cheese. Even a bit of Mexican tarragon. Never forget, food like a poem is all story at its core. Munch on. Write on.