Girls to Women

Powerful palling

cannot cut the concrete.

 

A young girl filing her

fingernails will tear it

to shreds.

 

Life is beauty

too high

and devouring everything.

 

What machinery can’t do,

a Valentine doily and

a lollipop can.

 

Girls grow in to women,

request houses of firm foundation,

wear fake nails.

New Color Project

Over the years I have experimented with various ways of combining poetry with either color or image. I’ve done poems on images and Instagramed them. I’ve put interesting lines of poetry on solid blocks of color as names for those colors. I’ve tried over and over again to marry my obsession with color to my poetry.

I think I have something new to try. I’m downloading free textures online and tinting them different colors. By doing this, I am capturing not only a color I like, but ensuring there is texture to go with that color to make the image and color deeper. Then I write a poem that corresponds to that color/texture. It can correspond by mood, location, subject etc. But something about the poem has to relate to the color and image, or at the very least the color.

I’m excited about this project. Periodically I like to have something new to work on. Photo editing has always been enjoyable for me, and naturally I live for poetry. Plus, new projects are good for the mind. I know my husband has been hoping I would start something new recently. He feels it is good for me to have something I’m working on. Not anything too hard or stressful, but just something to add a little oomph to my days I guess.

Eyes Red Galoshes

To the north,

isolation escaping over ice.

I was born of the crowd

to the crowd,

my mouth pasted on me closed.

I whip my back with feathers,

wear sackcloth of spun gold.

As the curve of collective consciousness

moves us closer and closer

to opposite edges.

The secret catapult

and the old rope swing

evade notice.

Except to me,

my eyes red galoshes in a

congregation of black.

Did I ever loan him a life vest

or sell him food?

We live our lives in a

stranger’s life.

He ran alongside the

multitudes until he

absorbed them.

Craig is 35!

Craig is 35 years old today. I am so blessed to have this man in my life. This morning was the present opening. He opened a bunch from me. I basically bought everything on his wishlist. Then he opened a lovely air fryer cookbook from his parents. His Mom also sent me a personalized sketchbook just as a treat.