Thursday, January 29, 2015

The Next Morning

by Peter Mitchell
Originally published on fragments of a scroll from the future

waxing moon
mimi Flew away
Leaving surreal Emptyness
This morning the sun came up
Bird singing

Sunday, January 25, 2015

Real Estate

by Richard Brautigan
From his collection entitled June 30th, June 30th

I have emotions
that are like newspapers that
     read themselves.

I go for days at a time
trapped in the want ads.

I feel as if I am an ad
for the sale of a haunted house:

     18 rooms
     I'm yours
     ghosts and all.

Thursday, January 22, 2015

Arrangement in Grey and Black

James Abbott McNeill Whistler, "Arrangement in Grey and Black -
Portrait of the Artist's Mother 1871"

Tuesday, January 20, 2015

St. James Church

Disrupting  the  quaint
contour  of   trees,   St.
James  steeple  spires
majestically     to    the
heavens.  Grand when
viewed  at a  distance,
close           inspection
evokes  a  shudder  of

dismay.  Erected in 1847 as a House of
God, 140 years later St. James Catholic
Church is a House for  the  Birds.  Rot-
eaten    boards    nailed    secure    over
windows  where the sun used to stream
through  stained  glass --  now pillaged.
The once white steeple -- now  infested
with rust and  the  incessant  cooing  of

pigeons.  At   its  steps 
lie     the   d e c a y e d
skeleton  of  one of  its
l a i t y   whose   pitiful
tuft  of  feathers mixed
in   well   with  the  dirt,
smashed   shells   and 
droppings of the entire
congregation  --  of the
church   itself,   now  a
carcass in  the process
of   de com p o si t i on.
A c r o s s    the   street
children   play   in   the
courtyard  of  a modern
day  school  building --
innocent,        laughing, 
alive,  oblivious  to the
death  smoldering  just
beyond the school gate.

Thursday, January 15, 2015

Six Years

By Gary Snyder
From his collection entitled The Back Country


          the pine tree is perfect

Walking in the snowhills the trail goes just right
Eat snow off pine needles
          the city's not so big, the
               hills surround it.
Hiezan wrapped in his own cloud -- 
Back there no big houses, only a little farm shack
          crows cawing back and forth
          over the valley of grass-bamboo
               and small pine.

If I had a peaceful heart it would look like this.
          the train down in the city

          was once a snowy hill

Tuesday, January 13, 2015


Aurora (Goddess of the Dawn), Artist Unknown, Mid-19th Century Oil on Wood
Part of The National Gallery of Art Collection

Sunday, January 11, 2015

i have a million needs

by Peter Mitchell
Originally published on fragments of a scroll from the future

I have a million needs
Swirling in my brain
They are annihilated
By the highest love

Tuesday, January 6, 2015

Looking Into a Face

by Robert Bly
From his collection entitled The Light Around the Body

Conversation brings us so close! Opening
The surfs of the body,
Bringing fish up near the sun,
And stiffening the backbones of the sea!

I have wandered in a face, for hours,
Passing through dark fires.
I have risen to a body
Not yet born,
Existing like a light around the body,
Through which the body moves like a sliding moon.

Sunday, January 4, 2015

Blessing the Melon

Blessing the Melon (The Indians Bring the Harvest to Christian Mary for her Blessing)
by Marsden Hartley, 1918, Philadelphia Museum of Art

Friday, January 2, 2015

Moon Images

by Kat Comer

The primitive sun fumes
its storms of gasses coalesce
as jets of fire lick the sky.

While Artemis the hunter
cool and remote

keeper of virgins
and sifter of shadows
on the surface of darkness.

Luminous, her eyelid poised
above us shines
closed, yet beckoning

Orbiting Earth
her bone white shield -- 

now becomes a scimitar
shearing drifts of clouds
scattered across the night.