a poem for artie my white dog.
spiraling in my bones
and floating.
storms rolling in over and past
home, above my head,
blooming what
I need is where I float.
below
my knees where I swim.
slight greens in the skies, fire grows into careening soft thunder, shaking little doggie, panting little tongue - lolling, head askance, this is fear wanting me to embrace it.
the little doggie terror at it's gate alive
with tremor and dulled eyes.
maternal grace hugging the fear, pushing it inside where it's hidden below the green sky, where the rolls of thunder silence themselves momentarily into monuments, into beleaguered valleys, dryness surrounding their claps.
QUIET y'all everything.
stillness awaiting the little doggie tongue
reminding beckoned skies to surrender to the fear.
abated once more, the space where the sky shone
emerald becomes sapphire blue crystalline palace of emerging possibility, of the terror of fear now exposed
immediately begone!!!
the spiral and float now in view again
in vain of all that was storm.
a tentative look
a step at least. a step! as in the beginning of walking.
I don't know when I will make another one.
what I do want to say is that
I have not been painting in the studio for about 4 weeks or even more!
that will be a thing of the past soon so instead of joyfully painting I am
also
joyfully notpainting.
perhaps it is a time of do nothing
Mankle seems to have a spiral fracture, perhaps this is better than originally diagnosed as a minor fracture 6 months ago, perhaps not. anyway it is good to be floating. I am happy that I have time to be so slow slow slow time allowing for book designed with poetry by two poet friends along with my paintings. Nice juxtapositions. Here is a sample page. Some of the poems bring me to tears because they are so beautiful and deep. reproduction of my artwork is a little iffy, meaning that some look good and some look less good. Ah well my first attempt at a book.
spiraling in my bones
and floating.
storms rolling in over and past
home, above my head,
blooming what
I need is where I float.
below
my knees where I swim.
slight greens in the skies, fire grows into careening soft thunder, shaking little doggie, panting little tongue - lolling, head askance, this is fear wanting me to embrace it.
the little doggie terror at it's gate alive
with tremor and dulled eyes.
maternal grace hugging the fear, pushing it inside where it's hidden below the green sky, where the rolls of thunder silence themselves momentarily into monuments, into beleaguered valleys, dryness surrounding their claps.
QUIET y'all everything.
stillness awaiting the little doggie tongue
reminding beckoned skies to surrender to the fear.
abated once more, the space where the sky shone
emerald becomes sapphire blue crystalline palace of emerging possibility, of the terror of fear now exposed
immediately begone!!!
the spiral and float now in view again
in vain of all that was storm.
a tentative look
a step at least. a step! as in the beginning of walking.
I don't know when I will make another one.
what I do want to say is that
I have not been painting in the studio for about 4 weeks or even more!
that will be a thing of the past soon so instead of joyfully painting I am
also
joyfully notpainting.
perhaps it is a time of do nothing
Mankle seems to have a spiral fracture, perhaps this is better than originally diagnosed as a minor fracture 6 months ago, perhaps not. anyway it is good to be floating. I am happy that I have time to be so slow slow slow time allowing for book designed with poetry by two poet friends along with my paintings. Nice juxtapositions. Here is a sample page. Some of the poems bring me to tears because they are so beautiful and deep. reproduction of my artwork is a little iffy, meaning that some look good and some look less good. Ah well my first attempt at a book.
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