roadkill

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Persian rug

such was her heartbreak
the scars were visible from space
trust like a wildebeest
giving way to the crocodile jaws of desire
door to the truth
hinged directly beneath his lying tongue
cut off from his actions
it remained locked
distant to her pain
her heavy chest sunk to the bedroom floor
an ocean of aimless wood
washed over by a handmade find
discovered at an estate sale up north
on a crisp autumn day with golden air
fingers interlocked in an electric ballet
their last hand clasp
today would be dark
the blue sky tarp burnt black
the worn Persian rug often for their lovemaking
until it was the only hard, soft spot remaining
to cushion her shattering pieces

communal totem

created way, way college-back for a design class that I didn’t very much care for

festooned chaos

since Halloween is near and my soon-to-be printed (yea) book
is due mid-December or earlier (yea)
I’m posting the only verse in love of the monster
that pays direct homage to this most wicked and deliciously sweet celebrationfestooned-chaos-text-color

love of the monster, is a black and white illustrated book
color was added here to protect the innocent;)

please do not leave me alone

please don’t leave me alone
with me
she isn’t always patient
often acerbic
with her
self
demanding the muse
to squat in her studio
silent so she can think
with or without a voice
outside her
self
this night is especially dark
 blustering trees their arms grabbing
wind pushes those
in his way
muse on a dead leaf
brilliant color now diminished
mottled
from overuse
the sky is howling
autumn is upon them
muse and artist
with no words or lines
thoughts in color
passed summer’s glow
dead umber like soil in shadow
ideas in flat space
wind cannot reach
muse cannot speak
senses dulled enough
to hibernate
please don’t leave me alone
I can’t think in dark caves

Shy Bear/Prisma

Shy Bear/Prisma

dying brilliance

used up leaves feather autumn’s nest
brilliance dying of pigmentation aflame
trees let go, releasing themselves in sexless slumber
I see you sitting there by the emptied benches
echoing laughter turned vagrant summer memories
this park, a memorial forgotten once more
until half-masted flags fly
a lifetime from now
confounded insects remain idealistic in cold shrinking shadows
they go unnoticed by you 
carved into a wooden back someone’s footprint, missteps of love
you and I will be used up during our autumn
I wonder if we shall tire of ourselves
as the trees tire of their dying brilliance

Autumn Leaves

Autumn Leaves

I seem to be on a nature word path this week, not sure how long it will go on
art created a year or so go, previously published

falling

spectacular glow against the robust purple grey sky
leaves spiraling in wind directing thin branches to bow
unreal color drenching the landscape
but what am I seeing
not glorious
scratched pencil lines and spinning circles
into ovals with broad maws and wild fur
sharp orbs and blocky nostrils
I’m hearing too many voices
the wind is a sailing eraser
the wall

Art Wall 1Art Wall 2Art Wall 3Art Wall 5Art Wall 6Art Wall 7Art Wall 8Art Wall 4RHinopaper falling like leaves
when
almost home I look up through a tree
these
these are the falling papers
this is the wind
this is what I need to remember
this is why
I have eyes
autumnsketches done for students to demo different animals…
picture taken when I returned home from subbing
while standing in my driveway looking up

past echoes

There is an oddness in the distance
faceless voices
disappearing 
between the rush of cars
Years ago, it would have been a herd of cattle

running for the lunch bell
on the road
, past my house

I sit on the front porch
perched on a yellow plastic Adirondack chair
drinking wine from a tumbler
pretending it’s a brown bag
and fantasizing I don’t have to work

Those faraway voices 
echo now
like dairy farmers’ spirits
loading Bessie’s milk onto Old Erie railroad cars
bound for the city

Retired sounds 
I imagine floating up
to the sun that once fed the cows golden grass

The birds, the flitty ones
with bright yellow bellies like my chair
flutter by my porch

saying their good nights or goodbyes
depending on how cold
this early autumn eve turns

warbler

Fall’n Stars

Dear Friends,
Last week at 5 AM, as the giant husband and I were taking our morning walk, I noticed something quite beautiful. The sleepy, white moon was preparing to let the sun take over. The road surface was slick from the previous night’s rain. Though the street was dark, it appeared illuminated by starlight. Wet leaves of orange, russet and gold were reflecting moon glow. The fallen leaves flickered atop the black asphalt. Their angular shapes shimmered as stars do in the night sky. It seemed for a beautiful, brief moment that the earth had flipped over onto her lovely head.

Autumn Leaves

Autumn Leaves

 

Thank you. May you dream of stars in heaven and on earth.
Fallen Girl mixed media collage created after witnessing stars on the road.

Please keep West Africa in your thoughts…

Earth logo

A Bit Nutty

Dear Friends,
Once in awhile the brain refuses to behave. It wants to reveal its goofy innards. Autumn is in the chilly morning air, and anxious acorns are dive bombing earth. Sometimes don’t you just feel a bit nutty!

Nutz

Nutz

Thank you. May you have a wonderfully nutty dream and wake up laughing…
Flying Nutz created for no reason – perhaps subconsciously inspired after shelling pistachios…