'... the scrambled ballad, about my word' — from 'I Lost My Talk' by Rita Joe
It ain't the cat that got my tongue
It ain't the fact that I'm no longer young
It's your act that I can't quite talk
I've heard enough, now watch me walk
A place to gather words before they get lost.
'... the scrambled ballad, about my word' — from 'I Lost My Talk' by Rita Joe
It ain't the cat that got my tongue
It ain't the fact that I'm no longer young
It's your act that I can't quite talk
I've heard enough, now watch me walk
Heafgang (a promise of home)
Alone, home seems some faint distant point on a spinning globe,
a remembered place, we suppose, untold to all but to ourselves,
where promise seems to lull us forth upon a returning road
Inspired by an exploration of the word in The Cabinet of Calm (Soothing Words for a Troubled World) by Paul Anthony Jones
Leaves have been sleeping the slumber of long winter; beneath, flowers bloom
for Algot
If a flower could hang in sorrow
If this flower could bloom tomorrow
If some flower escaped to burrow
it'd be beauty we'd see
not just petals and stems
but something closer to mystery
inspired by https://flic.kr/p/G8BC5s
“The fritillary (Fritillaria meleagris) is a plant of the lily family (Liliaceae). It is a very rare occurring bulbous plant in the wild in the Netherlands, which is protected by law. In Belgium, the plant is extinct in the wild. The flower has purple (sometimes white) checkered petals.” — Wilma HW61 (Flickr)
'We speak of how majestic it is, of the ocean power that gifts us songs'
— from Carrying Our Words by Ofelia Zepeda
This singer, lingers, on melody, a harmony of ghosts, wild dreams and slipstreams and currents as the pull of the moon moves among the notes of the final song sung between us
Growlery (a space for bad moods)
Some words emerge fully formed, stormed from birth as they were from the tempest of bad moods, a snarl and a snake hidden in the open of oft used rooms
Inspired by an exploration of the word in The Cabinet of Calm (Soothing Words for a Troubled World) by Paul Anthony Jones
'Why am I not as they?' – from Lineage by Margaret Walker
If they'd talk, I'd listen, they'd say
you waste your time away
with words of wood and clay
I'd talk, they'd listen, I'd say
you bequeathed me passion,
a link a line a phrase
a poet works the day
Escher never disappeared - he's still here, a slant of memory with an artist's eye, working inside this bee hive, wandering dusk and imagining daylight
Inspired by an image from John Johnston's Flickr Random Blender https://johnjohnston.info/oddsandends/flickrRandom/index_c.html
This is the world when we're not nearly looking —
all shadow and light, birch and pine
the short grass, shivering, in the aperture
of a white and black photograph
Inspired by “Native Woodland” flickr photo by spodzone https://flickr.com/photos/spodzone/50334309848 shared under a Creative Commons (BY-NC-ND) license
Gadwaddick (weary of work)
You can’t expect the very best without some rest and recharge
to make a break to take a breath: the calming mind, healing scars
Inspired by an exploration of the word in The Cabinet of Calm (Soothing Words for a Troubled World) by Paul Anthony Jones