Why We Help One Another
Tag Archives: climate change
The Woodpecker
The Woodpecker
outside my daughter’s window, the woodpecker hammering the aluminum gutter
knows nothing other—than what he knows
this incensed bird will wake my teen who already sleeps fitfully
beneath the creatures who suffocate her dreams:
they claw earth; pollute water; rape land;
tear friendships; rend families; decimate futures
they alter climates
they type in ALL CAPS
the woodpecker continues his assault on the gutter outside my daughter’s window
if this red-headed madcap mirrored humanity at all, he might desist
but he doesn’t know anything other—than what he knows
the hammering bird hunts for his brand of love;
his brand of sustenance;
his right to expand his territory;
his need to collect like-minded-birds who would adore his amplified walloping
so, I must continue thinking of ways to deter him—or at the very least send him elsewhere
but how unkind would that be—he’s only a bird after all
the inane walloping is coming from elsewhere
(Prisma pencil pecker created about ten years ago)
I hope you’re all managing okay.
I take in every headline without breathing
going backwards ain’t how growin’ goes
blue grass blew up under there, landed there, over there
you see, look here bled blue on this over here
so they sang over there, banjo’d blues ‘round those mountains
got a banjo too, but no bluegrass livin’ in these olive eyes
listen here, do you hear the weary sky humming da blues
below her womb, flesh ‘n bone spawning bitter gods
swelling wellsprings of madness
manic rivers drying, warm water shattering man-walls
cause he be screwing the planet ‘n mother earth be pissed
don’t we know, going backwards ain’t how growing goes
great grandpapa’s mighty oak just felled by climbing fire
man ‘n his man-guns knocking things ‘neath blue-blue sky
no seed sown with lead, no gilded heart embraces love
listen here, do you hear the weary sky, how she hums da blues
she be blue, oh, so blue hummin’ above —
this mankind of ours screeching and scratching below
don’t we know, going backwards ain’t how growing goes
this piece inspired by a newly black-topped parking lot
here’s to looking up at the sky – still blue – still lovely
am:)
The man across the street
 just stepped up the little stairs to reach his steering wheel. This vehicle is not required for his line of work. My studio, a converted porch, faces his yellow house, his big truck. My home, rising during the Great Depression, has withstood many assaults over time. Her old bones don’t deserve to be rattled.
The sky is bright, the birds are singing, and every morning the man across the street shatters this peaceful illusion. His truck’s reverb frazzles the neighborhood, echoes through my chest. Maybe the man across the street needs the sleepy world agitated at 5:45 AM, maybe tremors make his shadow grow.
If someday he should acknowledge the next phase of life, I pray he doesn’t buy a bigger truck. I don’t want to become another person in this burning world who adds more noise to the hate. I dislike the man across the street. I do not hate him. I will admit, however, to hating his fucking truck.
I painted this a few months ago. Reference taken from a photo of Chris Lee as Dracula. Thought this image was somewhat fitting for this piece:)
I hope you’re all keeping cool.
am:)
Why Create in This Woeful World of Ours
“With all the darkness that’s going on the world, you can look at the darkness, just
don’t stare. It will make you crazy. It will make you cross eyed. It will make you
what it is. The solution is to create magic, dance, sing, love. Create environments
where you can create joy. Because you can create joy.” —RuPaul
Occasionally and sometimes often, I remind myself why it is that I create critters and creatures from the comfort of a warm and comfortable studio, sleeping dachshund at my feet, food in the fridge, clean water at my disposal (for now…) while man’s madness blinds him to the fires burning the land, the books, the beauty, the ballot boxes, the bridges, the rainbows…
forever eclipsed
eclipsing in my neck of the woods around 1:20 PM
don’t forget those all-important eclipse goggles 😎for safe viewing
notice me
if you haven’t checked it out, I had a love poem published on the ever-inspiring FOXGLOVE JOURNAL
– please share if you enjoy the read – humble thanks
cup the calm
time to relax the mind, heighten the senses
take the fingers for a stroll
haven’t let them loose in the Egyptian sheets lately
are we getting too closed in, devolving perhaps
like caged beasts and fishermen lost at sea
remap the stars
navigate to him–to her, across bombarding waves
intoxicate the glands, harden the resolve to coexist peacefully
the way temporary humans should on a temporary planet
back to whispering a sweet name in a fit of honest passion
a return to thanking the nakedness of the night
where muscles unhinge from scabbards
and time levels no orders
cup the calm, drink its sanity, inhale slowly and with much purpose
walk into the fray and remain unchanged
Dinophor
My Friends,
We lived as kings
none as fierce
We unleashed massive power
taking what we needed
Impenetrable as we were
we did not understand
our inability to punch through
the black clouds
We lived as kings…
Thank you. May you dream of blue skies and rainbows.
T’rex Battle created in the 1990’s using Adobe Illustrator and a mouse.
anntogether 