The Poetry of If

Marc_-_Träumendes_Pferd

Franz Marc, Dreaming Horse

 

Blue magic perfumes the night

(and ghosts are almost here)

in my heart, embracing

haunting, breathing secrets

of eternity

 

~and the universe~

 

throbs and dazzles–

there a star dances,

and voices wake

laughter, joy–

the poetry of if

 

A collaborative poem with the Oracle. She seems to be fond of the Puente form.  I think the blue horses must dream blue magic.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dancing, Dazzling, If

Irregular Galaxy NGC 4485

“The irregular galaxy NGC 4485 shows all the signs of having been involved in a hit-and-run accident with a bypassing galaxy. Rather than destroying the galaxy, the chance encounter is spawning a new generation of stars, and presumably planets.” Credit: NASA, ESA; acknowledgment: T. Roberts (Durham University, UK), D. Calzetti (University of Massachusetts) and the LEGUS Team, R. Tully (University of Hawaii) and R. Chandar (University of Toledo)

 

After the secrets dance

from blushing clouds

and with wild magic

(like long kisses)

wake

 

~an eternity of ifs~

 

till you return,

and beneath the honeyed sea-spray

where diamond drops shine in the light

we embrace again and again

remembering this dazzling life

 

~and yet~

 

here with fevered almosts

ghosts surround us,

haunting in soft color

firing hearts and voices,

to picture never and always

 

 

1024px-Ilya_Repin-What_freedom!

Ilya Repin, “What Freedom”

 

The magnetic poetry Oracle and I collaborated on this double puente. So, that’s probably not a form, but I don’t argue with the Oracle.

The Sleep Shadows Said

C5042A07-6D23-4DAE-95F5-ACE6071EB456

Moonrise over a South Jersey field, November.

 

The sleep shadows said

live life as a moon rising through the mist

with dreams raining from her

in honeyed-diamond language

shining with ifs.

 

~So, you recall the sweet luscious beat~

 

as we love and ache

and watch men lie and shoot.

Yet still the sky sings in light-music of purple-pink,

and it floats on our tongues

as the wind whispers why?

 

Another puente from the Oracle. It seems she knows the world is an especially confusing place these days. (And also that I had some very strange dreams just before waking today.) I didn’t take a screen shot because I planned to come back to the tiles. I thought I emailed the poem to myself, but it vanished. Mysterious world. Here’s the link to the Magnetic Poetry Oracle. 

I’m linking this to dVerse’s Open Link Night, which Lillian is hosting, and I’m getting in just before it closes.

 

Star Travelers

 

Galactic Cherry Blossom

The galaxy NGC 1156 resembles a delicate cherry blossom tree flowering in springtime in this Hubble image. The many bright “blooms” within the galaxy are in fact stellar nurseries — regions where new stars are springing to life. Text credit: ESA (European Space Agency) Image credit: ESA/Hubble, NASA, R. Jansen

 

The universe wakes

in a brilliant blush of color

flowering dazzle clouds that sail on ifs

in magic rhythm from was to is

 

~for eternity or not~

 

do we embrace

with fired hearts,

desiring stars,

remembering home

 

A puente from the Oracle.

Screen Shot 2019-11-09 at 8.10.50 AM

 

 

Let the Magic Sail In

IMG_4856

Let magic sail in

on a brilliant candy corn sky

this blushing child heals—

time the thing of poetry

and night thoughts,

dances yet lingers

 

~flowing in circular patterns~

 

eternity’s ghost-fires

sends colored smoke clouds

from the stars.

In this rhythm of old secrets

the universe dazzles with if—

listen.

 

Screen Shot 2019-10-27 at 6.58.31 AM

 

There’s a heavy rain falling this morning, but yesterday morning was beautiful. I didn’t get a chance to consult the Oracle yesterday, but she must have known I had a good day and gave me this puente. (I added a few words she couldn’t be bothered with.)

Sail Into the Vast Ever After

stsci-gallery-1022a-2000x960

 

See how time darkens her eyes,

yet her heart embraces still

this shrunken universe of

clouded color and cool breezes

 

~bringing fire from long ago~

 

the morning wakes bleeding red

but the dazzle-blue world throbs with if—

I listen to its magic,

let the ghosts sing on

 

~and fly away~

 

the champagned air dances to star rhythms

with flowering smiles–

it and we who were

sail into the vast ever after

 

Screen Shot 2019-10-19 at 7.29.23 AM

 

The Oracle and I collaborated on this poem, which was a puente, but then we kept going. . .I suppose that’s what a bridge to the universe would do.

The Always, the Never, the Joy, the Light

IMG_4478Monday Morning Musings:

“For, while the tale of how we suffer, and how we are delighted, and how we may triumph is never new, it always must be heard. There isn’t any other tale to tell, it’s the only light we’ve got in all this darkness.”

― James Baldwin, “Sonny’s Blues”

 

After the dark cloud dances,

a pulsing star kisses the universe—

I open the window,

letting in magic

 

~and all the ifs~

 

awaken,

breathing time, remembering ghosts–

our lives, the brilliant poetry

of always and never

***

We walk through city streets,

a thought comes, retreats

 

a fragment, not yet complete

lost in a beat

 

as I look up to see

the world around me–

 

in the windows the clouds

reflected, ignored by crowds

who pass them by,

ignore the perfect azure of the sky

 

broken with streaks of white

wind-blown, in flight

 

across the blue.

And it’s true,

907C2B22-A0A2-4D04-AD82-884B2608A03B

I think, that beauty is found

in county and town

 

all around us if we look for it.

rove and gaze a bit.

 

And so, time passes—

half-empty or half-filled your glasses?

 

A frantic rush to meet

deadlines, yet greet

 

each day with some joy,

though fate is coy,

 

and accidents will happen

so, we go rushing in when

IMG_4651

it does, to wait and stand by

her eyelid damaged, not her eye,

 

though her story makes no sense,

the consequence

 

of confusion,

of what was, delusion

 

over what she can do–

most likely I’ll be like that, too.

 

We arrive home late at night

to hear an owl, out of sight

 

he whoo whoo whoos,

and if I could choose

 

some magic, that seems right,

perfect, transfused into the night,

 

a bridge of spirits, night to day

with sorrow held at bay

Ben Franklin Bridge

Heading over the Ben Franklin Bridge into Philadelphia just before dawn.

we sway with friends

beginnings and ends

 

the power of love, beauty, light

joy and delight

Wedding at Philadelphia Horticultural Center

Wedding at Philadelphia Horticultural Center, Fairmount Park

to share such moments again

and again, to dance, feel romance

 

in the night around us,

and laugh as we discuss

 

how that speech went way too long–

isn’t it time for another song?

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

So, we eat, drink, dance some more,

and yes, my feet are a little sore—

 

but look at that moon, that sky!

she hums so fiercely, why

IMG_4695

don’t we hear or see

enough of the beauty,

 

the light? Our tales are not new,

but they are yet so true

 

and so, told again and again,

every beginning to every end

 

circling round, like our moon

singing an ancient, eternal tune

 

poetry of stars, the always, the never

going on through time. . .forever.

 

Some of you know, I’m finishing a book on sexual harassment. It has to be completed this week, and I’m scrambling. So I apologize for being behind on reading everyone’s posts. Added to this, my mom had an accident Friday evening, and my husband and I were in the ER with her till very late at night. When we got home, there was an owl hooting from some tree in our yard. I’d never heard this before, so I’m convinced it’s one of Jane Dougherty’s owls. Or perhaps the Oracle sent it as a sign of. . .something.  (Great horned owl song here.) We went back to the ER early the next morning, where an eye surgeon glued my mom’s damaged lower eyelid back into place. We’re hoping it will hold, and that she will not need surgery. Saturday night we went to a wedding, the groom is the son of friends, and we got to be with a bunch of our very dear friends for the night.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Laugh from the Sky

520F8846-99AE-41B1-8F88-1B3A236219A5

A laugh from the sky–

and in a broken breath

a dazzle cloud of joy dances

into the morning

 

~like a soft ghost~

 

time flies in eternal rhythms

of almost and ifs

but we remember,

the brilliant kisses of the universe

 

I’ve written almost a thousand words this morning, so I took a very short break to consult the Oracle. I haven’t had much time to write poetry this week. We collaborated on this puente, but I’m pleased she’s in a good mood.

 

Her Heart Kissed Joy

1024px-p_s_krøyer_1899_-_sommeraften_ved_skagens_strand._kunstneren_og_hans_hustru

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

Her heart kissed joy—

as if

she was not born

of hard work

and never would go far–

but sailed on stars

and heard them laugh

 

~in a brilliant champagne sky~

 

over the ocean’s voice

I ask you to linger,

remembering this–

a window in time–

and you smile in the soft night

while we dance through

a universe of always

 

I have so much to do, and I’ve been feeling so stressed, but look what the Oracle gave me today. This puente! I’m feeling better now.

 

From that Sky

EA5FB5C7-ED30-49A5-B54E-506802672C77

 

From that sky

we sail into tomorrow,

remembering the spray

of cloud breath

on dazzle blue,

and the laughing stars of after

 

~the waking fire of the universe~

 

comes, ghosts from eternity

dance through the vast darkness of time

to linger in my heart,

and I look and listen to the angel-voiced day

breezing with poetry–

bringing the magic of if

 

Screen Shot 2019-09-14 at 8.50.05 AM

Another struggle with the Oracle to get this puente–another collaborative venture.  I think she knows my brain right now is scattered in a million different directions.