Sonnets keep flowing..

Place as secret

Your presence is a mirror, taut and round,
a love letter from a time I can’t recall,
so much of me, it’s hardly there at all,
the surface of a depth far more profound
than space. You are the wind with which I run,
the movement in the sky, that which I breath,
the essence of the soul that I believe
conjoins us all, the shining of the sun
without being the sun itself. Mute voice
reciting all the poetry I write,
inverse dark matter cradling me in light.
We look into each other and rejoice.
We never knew that we would find a twin.
We reach our arms out and then step within.

Newer work #113

Of course I’m going to create a painting involving meteorites when there’s a meteorite shower in the offing, and of course as a poet I’m going to romanticize it.

New Book now available.

Finally got the last edits done to allow my latest poetry and painting book ‘My Next Breath’ to be available in Kindle as well as in print.

Here’s the link to the books page on my website which will show you all the books without having to hunt them down on Amazon – or you can just search for me on Amazon if you wish. I’ll be ordering physical copies soon for the studio so let me know if you’d like a signed copy directly from me.

Monthly Newsletter

I have a tree painted on the back of my garage with leaves made from pieces of soda cans, stapled loosely so that they rustle delightfully in the breeze.  Against the trunk is painted ‘The wind of change may not blow you someplace different but it might shape you into something more beautiful’. 
I write this on the cusp between the Covid shutdowns and the George Floyd riots.  Many businesses have been shuttered so long they may not survive.  Some have been so impacted by the new health restrictions imposed on reopening, they have given up.  Now we see others burned or looted out of existence and yet others may be unwilling to continue in some neighborhoods. 
I have a friend who has been through several careers.  She describes the changes as getting to a point where she needed to reinvent herself.  This year it seems many will need to reinvent themselves or make adjustments to how they live or work. 
One of the adjustments I’ve been considering is to make some work more easily shippable, so it is less prohibitive to sell online.  I decided to experiment a little with refractured acrylics on canvas; lighter weight than panels, but also a different medium for the refractured part.  The first experiment (above) was relatively successful. 
Another couple items that came out of spending time at home was an update to ‘Busting the Bard’.  This is now available in paperback and kindle from Amazon.  And the fourth poetry and painting book ‘My Next Breath’ is close to being complete. (Click here for links.)  It is available as a paperback but my proofreader and the person writing an intro on the back have yet to have time to do this, so there will be an update hopefully by the end of this week and I’ll create the kindle version then.    I’ll order hard copies once art fairs restart or other outlets need restocking, but if you’d like to get a signed copy let me know.
 
I will have work in two online shows:
Jun 6-Jul 12: 6x6x2020 Online fundraiser for Rochester Contemporary Art Center
Jun 2nd-Aug 30th (approx) The Planet of Joy at Lark Gallery Online.  This may develop into a physical gallery show next month and I should be on a Q&A Virtual Art Talk on Zoom soon.  I’ll send another email when this is set.

Freeverse

Something else that fell out of the end of the pen…..

Childs play

Play with time.
Play with time and mold it
like a consequence of childhood,
a wrong turn in family, leading to
raising more of a hellcat than a child.

Play with time
and fold the horror back into itself
until it is no more than a streak
as inconsequential as a minute
you only remember when reading your diary.

Play with time
until the book falls out of the window
when you move out
and life becomes a Play-Doh landscape
that is finally your own.

Sonnet Challenge #39

Some things just fall out of the end of the pen…..

When I’m dead

You’ll be the first I’ll visit when I’m dead.
I guess that you’ll be waiting there for me
and we can say all that we’ve left unsaid
about things that were never meant to be.
You’ll get the joke I never did tell right,
unless we’re in a place jokes can’t be told.
You’ll know that fuss I made was not a fight,
and love that would have stayed as we grow old –
because it did, despite lives that diverged
for reasons that need never be explained.
Each time I thought of death, my feelings surged
that it would be when I see you again.
You’ll be the first I’ll visit when I’m through
and then you’ll know I wrote this one for you.

Newer work #104

My 4-panel painting ‘The Four Hours of Equinox‘ is often mistaken for a row of 4 individual paintings, and people want to buy just one.  The stars one is the most popular, so I thought I would do a just-stars painting in the same shape.

1434untilthesungoesdown_w

#1434 Until the sun goes down. Mixed media on shaped solid panel. 24×11″. $250.
The following poem is written for and painted into the painting:
You cannot cry for love that’s lost
Until that love is done.
You cannot wish upon a star
Until the sun goes down.

 

Newer work #103

This is another in the series on reclaimed panels.  There will be quite a few of these as my friend and I had a very successful dumpster diving session a couple months back.

1433wavinggoodmorning_w

#1433 Waving good morning. Mixed media on panel, 18×10. $180.
The following is written for and painted into the painting:
Our sun warms our world
Atmosphere heats and rises
waving good morning.

Sonnet Challenge #38

I decided to spent some of my new free time to call people I haven’t seen in a while, or have stopped seeing in the course of life because of the social distancing.  I also decided to use the time for some more poetry.  On Sunday afternoon I sat down to write a poem but didn’t find any inspiration, so I decided to call someone.  I got voicemail.  So I called someone else.  Ditto.  Eight voicemails later, I had my inspiration.

Voicemail

A quiet day with little going on,
in Covid times the schedule is quite bare.
I miss my friends, hope they have not become
statistics with what’s going on out there.
I guess they also won’t have much to do
so thought I’d be the one that would reach out,
pick up the phone and say “Hey, how are you?”
not leave our friendship’s worth to me in doubt.
But all I got was voicemails! Every one!
Had I missed out on something? Checked the news…
there’s really nothing different going on!
I guess just me that’s sat here with the blues.
They’ll all call back at once, that’s what they’ll do
And get my outgoing voicemail message too!

Newer work #102

Every day you get a chance to start over….

1432joyofnewness_wpoem_w

#1432 “Joy of newness”, mixed media on panel 18×10. $180.

I just wondered whether I’ve now written more haiku than sonnets….