I Ask the Birds: Magnetic Poetry

Frants_Bøe_-_Birds_in_the_midnight_sun,_1857

Frants Diderik Bøe, “Birds in the Midnight Sun,” [Public domain]

When you soar—

up through purple mist

 

is there beauty there?

 

Blue shadows lick

the red rocks

 

a lazy sky-spray sings,

 

but rain recalls dreams–

the sweet smell of peaches–

 

and yet the wind cries why

as a symphony, a moan

 

an ache in me sleeps

 

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The Oracle sends me lyrical questions. I hit “Publish” too quickly! Re-publishing this with my screen shot.

 

Dreams and Wishes

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More than cake—

remember magic

lives long. Let

it always

surround you, a breathing cloud,

a dance in kisses

 

and so, this—ask if,

but explore the secret stars

in a universe

time ghost-laughs a fevered breeze

and a heart blushes, flowers

 

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The Oracle knows everything, so she knows it is birthday month at my house. Both daughters and my husband (and mother-in-law) have birthdays in February. When the girls were little, we often had a combined Valentine’s-birthday party. So here is birthday love and wishes in a shadorma tanka combo for Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday challenge.  But there will also be a lot of cake and celebrations this month.

The Old Lovers: Magnetic Poetry

 

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Robert Vonnoh, “Lingering Rain” Public Domain, Wikipedia Commons

Recall, she says,

we watched the moon

 

and time stopped

as shadow mist played

 

above the blue forest.

What was it you wanted?

 

Us?

The sea?

 

A dream of if—

lives on for us, my love,

 

like the smell of spring rain

as sun shines through it.

 

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From today’s visit to the Oracle.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Haunted

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Caspar David Friedrich

 

A ghost from eternity

haunted me

 

like a laugh

in rhythm with time.

 

And it dazzled,

embraced the night in perfume

 

and celebrated caramel-colored days in dance–

almost always–

 

we could

and did

 

more or less like need,

to heal.

 

Then it said go,

the window is open—

 

but listen for poetry,

it surrounds you.

 

My weekly message from the Magnetic Poetry Oracle.

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And so, You Ask Why?

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Peder Severin Krøyer [Public domain] “Summer Evening at Skagen beach, the artist and his wife”

Through time,

there with us,

 

purple shadows—

and above,

 

the moon,

diamond cool,

 

urging, what?

 

We want beauty and music

(so, we say)

 

Summer sea-sprayed lives

and the smell of storms

 

that blow away—

as life must—

 

but still—

you ask why?

 

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I haven’t had much time to read or write poetry this week, but I didn’t want to miss my weekly consult with the Oracle. Her message seems appropriate for MLK weekend and the Women’s Marches today–and the Super Blood Moon lunar eclipse.

Whispered Chants and Purple Seas

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Whispered chants, when

must it all go?

 

So, with a moan,

she soars through shadows

 

as the moon sings of time

in blooded beats

 

and

if

 

she asks—aching—

is it never yet?

 

A thousand whys—

but still she dreams

 

of wind-sprayed skin

and purple seas

 

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This is for Open Link Night at dVerse, where Grace is hosting. I don’t usually consult The Magnetic Poetry Oracle until Saturday, but it’s been a strange week anyway, and then I saw the report about the oceans are warming up faster than has been anticipated.  Well, the Oracle knows everything.  A bit of surrealism here perhaps—it seems fitting.

 

 

In the Time of Rain: Magnetic Poetry

vincent_willem_van_gogh,_dutch_-_rain_-_google_art_project

Vincent van Gogh, “Wheat field in Rain” [Public Domain]via Wikipedia Commons

After the rain

licks pink from the sky

 

and shadowed mist

cries a raw symphony of aching sighs,

 

you trudge to–

or from—

 

wanting. . .

whispering. . .

 

“There the sun rose in honeyed music,

sang of life when”

 

So our dreams together

recall time

 

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My message from the Magnetic Poetry Oracle. She’s knows it’s raining here—again.

All That and Love: Magnetic Poetry

Guillermo_Gómez_Gil_-_Salida_de_la_luna

 

Soaring through dream-time. . .

 

we watch the sea pounding

gorgeous fluff licking

 

sun shadows–

beauty at play.

 

Summer storms whisper,

a symphony

 

the wind urges

in language of will—not when—

 

and there is life,

sad, bitter, delirious, and luscious—

 

all that—and love.

 

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I consulted the Oracle earlier this morning, but I’m just getting a chance to post it now.  It seems a like a good message, especially this time of year.

The Laughing Breath of Stars: Magnetic Poetry

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Look for magic

on a fire cloud—breezing

 

to embrace the laughing breath of stars–

almost an eternity of rhythm–

 

born if and always

to linger—

 

so, when waked

ghosts go (never sadly)

 

but after-voiced lie healed,

so old and sacred,

 

time-kissed

and remembered–

 

And we will celebrate that which was

and like angels dance

 

over brilliant blushing skies–

a universe at peace

 

This the birthday poem the Oracle gave me.