Star-Storied

Picture—
storm-chased seas, waves
in white-foamed roiling crash
against the small trireme, fortunes
plumet.

Behold–
a tale unfolds,
ocean-dark legends, gods
and mortals interlocked, love lost
and found.

Slay now,
the snake-haired beast,
though she blood-births magic–
this winged-horse, muse-beloved, soars
skyward.

Listen–
and hear beyond
ancient, echoed voices,
flashes of ghost-light memory
linger–

each pulse,
part of time’s dust
in gleaming streams–glimmers
of what was, what is, what might be–
somewhere

a place
in time, circling
round, like a comet bound
for space, yet ensorcelling each
story.

I haven’t done one of Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday prompts for a long time. This is for an ekphrastic prompt based on the photo above. It sent me off into mythology, as well as the stars. For most of Colleen’s prompts, you must write a poem using one of the listed syllabic forms. This is a Crapsey Cinquain series—though I don’t think I have the rhythm quite right. First draft.

Breathe In, Blue Fire–dVerse Open Link Night Live

Linda is hosting the Live Open Link Night for dVerse today. I’m sharing this poem that I wrote in December. It’s a poem inspired by the Magnetic Poetry Oracle. I don’t think too many people here have read it because it was posted on December 26. I missed Sarah’s Poetics prompt this week to write a poem of blue, but it appears that I’ve written many poems about blue!

Before the Before, and After

Before the before
of star-danced light
and rippling time, before
there was what is now,
what was

wonder

in the after, in the bang and crash
of stellar flare and dust, there was
a time of infinite possibilities–

chance,

our meeting, or fate? All that was before,
leading to it. In the crash and bang of bodies,
we’re born

and give birth to others. And in the after,
the wonder of infinite possibilities,

chances we take, paths to follow, as the light
of the past twinkles on future dreams.

For dVerse, where Peter asks us to think about turns in poetry.

Breath In, Blue Fire

Breath in—blue fire,
the universe’s secrets, the champagne clouds,
the blush born in ferocious fever-dances,
the aching beauty of after
the light-singing stars.

What was so is still
the moon whispers, listen and recall
the ghost rhythms of time–

and if,
the breeze explores,
it urges the sky toward spring
through the black beneath the storm,

where sea-ships, dream-carriers,
sail under a spray of diamonds
toward tomorrow.

Happy day after Christmas! Here’s my message from the Oracle. She made me work for this one.

Space Dancers

^{“However, what it is really exciting about NGC 1097 is that it is not wandering alone through space. It has two small galaxy companions, which dance “the dance of stars and the dance of space” like the gracious dancer of the famous poem The Dancer by Khalil Gibran.” 
Credit: ESA/Hubble & NASA. Acknowledgement: E. Sturdivant}

Somewhere in space, impossibly it seems,
the stars always sing. They bring to rings of light,
celestial rhythm, a chance to dance, a sort of space romance,
a stellar pas de deux.

In whirling-waltz, they swirl possibly unaware,
of sparks flame-shot in incandescent flares.

A quadrille for dVerse, where De has asked us to use some form of the word possible.

Signpost

Odilon Redon, Panneau décoratif

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A signpost

symbol-scarred but faint,

faded from

time’s passage.

But on your heart, ancestors

created a map

 

of past words

and worlds, crisscrossed, or

parallel?

Infinite

possibilities exist—

light-time blends and bends

 

and you know

the road circles round

with tangled,

never straight lines.

There –the traces of stars’ dust

shimmers at your feet.

 

Now has passed,

the future’s ahead

like headlights

on night roads,

a guide. Turn into the spin,

drive to tomorrow.

 

This is for Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday where the theme word is map. Ken’s poem inspired mine. I had intended to write a gogyohka in response, but instead ended up with another shadorma sequence, which is not exactly a response, but when I read his,  I thought of signposts.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Is it All?

Vincent van Gogh, Starry Night Over the Rhone

 

Is it all

a dark dance? Fools laugh

from a vast

emptiness—

hearts or brain? I remember

stars’ light lingers long–

 

time’s magic

seen after it’s gone–

heart’s-fire,

black-erased,

loss and embraced balanced, moon-

aches and pink roses

 

beneath a blue sky–

both ifs existing

in time and

in dreams, we

soar through diamond-sprayed skies, sing

with stars. Shine, reborn.

 

 

My message from the Oracle in a Shadorma sequence, also for Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday challenge. 

 

 

 

 

And Light

“This remarkable spiral galaxy, known as NGC 4651, may look serene and peaceful as it swirls in the vast, silent emptiness of space, but don’t be fooled — it keeps a violent secret. It is believed that this galaxy consumed another smaller galaxy to become the large and beautiful spiral that we observe today. Although only a telescope like the NASA/ESA Hubble Space Telescope, which captured this image, could give us a picture this clear, NGC 4651 can also be observed with an amateur telescope — so if you have a telescope at home and a star-gazing eye, look out for this glittering carnivorous spiral.” Text credit: ESA (European Space Agency) Image credit: ESA/Hubble & NASA, D. Leonard

 

Listen—

ask a ghost

how the universe wakes

with icy champagne kisses

spiraling in time,

feeding between sound

 

~and light~

 

drifts from the stars

you wish upon–

you dream of if

and promises made

with smiles and tears

in the language of hope.

 

Another puente from my collaboration with the Magnetic Poetry Oracle. I used words from two sets of tiles.

 

 

 

 

 

From There to Here

“Powerful gushers of energy from seething stars can sculpt eerie-looking figures with long, flowing veils of gas and dust. One striking example is “the Ghost of Cassiopeia,” officially known as IC 63, located 550 light-years away in the constellation Cassiopeia the Queen.” Image Credits: NASA, ESA and STScI; Acknowledgment: H. Arab (University of Strasbourg)

 

Beneath the brown,

a seed grows green,

see?

 

Beneath the frost,

nature murmurs a song,

listen

 

as after the rain,

spring sings of time

in a fall of pink petals

 

and ghosts sail

through a universe

of if

 

with star rhythms

they dazzle—

and we embrace the fire

 

from a champagne cloud,

remembering

like a night kiss,

 

the brilliance of eternity

lingering

in our blood.

 

I took words from three sets of tiles, and the Oracle and I collaborated on this poem. Mostly her, I just added the articles and such. I think the link is still open for Open Link Night on dVerse, where Lillian is hosting from her vacation retreat, so I’m linking this there.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Three Witches Echo the Light

“In a light echo, light from the flash is reflected by successively more distant rings in the complex array of ambient interstellar dust that already surrounded the star. V838 Mon lies about 20,000 light years away toward the constellation of the unicorn (Monoceros), while the light echo above spans about six light years in diameter.” Image Credit: NASA

 For Kerfe and Jane

 

The echo of stars’ light

(so bright, so bright)

twinkles through space and time

 

in radiant waves shimmering

(the sight, the sight)

of shimmering stars

 

and humming moon

(her tune, her tune)

propels us forward

 

with Oracle and alchemy

(rhapsodies of fantasy)

we three witches seek guidance

 

through conjuring magic

(the gifts, the gifts)

of whys and ifs,

 

thus, we pause life’s darkness

to reveal the light—it’s there, it’s there!

So bright, so bright, so bright, so bright.

 

This is for my prompt at dVerse, where I’ve asked everyone to echo or write about echoes.