In The Studio

In the Studio

Alone in the studio, the model sighed.

She picked up a malingering brush,

feathered her cheeks,

feeling for what she saw on the canvas,

that being he made

from the bones of her wrists and a bowl of peonies,

tomorrow for skin,  smile curve and tangent, 

blur of ripe cream leg

no woman ever used to walk.

She touched her face, round in the rind of hair,

a basin brimmed with the rippling past

poured blind before her in dim pastels,

all its inventory braised

in a broth of shadow, while

she stroked the cheeks' braille

deep cut as flagstone

worn by the wheel, words nothing

paint would ever say.

Her fingers shortened

like burning candles--she leaned

leaned

forward and felt for the

habit of her breath tangled

in the white fold of cloth

he'd thrown over her hip; north light

dappled her eyes; a twitch,  a cry

and the studio went dark.

~May 2013

posted for    real toads

Challenge: Get Listed

 Elephants Dance in Fancy Pants with (who else?) Karin Gustafson

Karin, also known as ManicdDaily, provides us with some cogent reasons to consider using a word list to aid the creative juices, and then gives us an excellent one. You will find all these words from it above: tomorrow, wrist, braise, basin, hair, rind, inventory, malingers, dapple, and habit. This was quite a different poem before encountering them.

Image: An Artist's Studio, by Konstantin Korovin, 1892

Public Domain, via wikipaintings.org

Off the Shelf Archive ~Special Edition Redux

Today, May 22nd, is a certain poet's birthday--one of my favorites, who also happens to be one of the best of friends, (and poets) around.

I am speaking of the inimitable Fireblossom, also known by the real world sobriquet of Shay Caroline Simmons. She has recently published a collection of her poems on Amazon, entitled, My Mad Love, and earlier in the month I put a selection from it on my Off The Shelf page. I promised another one, and so here it is. I saved my very favorite for last.

It's called The Far Garden, one of the first poems I read by Shay that blew me away, something she does pretty routinely, but you know what they say about first times. This one is my idea of magic.

You can find more of Shay's outstanding poetry at her blog, The Word Garden.

Happy Birthday, Shay, and thanks for letting me share your work here, on the Off The Shelf Page.

~*~

Here is the previous selection from My Mad Love: The Healing.

The Healing

I spread five fingers and five seasons came;

I kept the one that had no name.

I closed them round the stepchild month;

She felt like love when love is done.

I stuffed the lost one in my mouth,

And spoke things scratching to get out.

The Gypsy wrapped around my eyes,

and by blue evening I was blind.

She wormed her way into my ear

and whispered quite like you, my dear.

She burrowed deep into my brain,

Sweet and sharp like blade and cane.

But when the sweet bitch found my heart,

She bit and sealed the broken part.

© Shay Caroline Simmons, 

2008-2013,  All Rights Reserved.

Used with permission.

from the book, My Mad Love; Poems Out In The Noonday Sun, 

by Shay Caroline Simmons

Image: Artist Unknown, via Facebook

Unwinding

Unwinding

Turn down the twist

in the ticking

will you;

the flickering,

take it away

from the weave.

Bring some quiet
even if

it only comes in black.

Drop it

like snowdazzle

into the tic of the eye

and lay a cover

over the clutter

of what must rest

before it breathes again.

~May 2013

posted for   real toads

Challenge: Interpretation with Margaret

The artist's eye of Margaret Bednar once again presents us with inspiration derived from the works of a talented group of young artists. The image above is the copyrighted work of Chelsea Bednar, and used with permission, for which much thanks. .

The Nestling

The Nestling

Taking my bucket

up from the well

I slipped on the

stone of your song.

Dark water splashed

cold on the ground,

the black seed split

at my feet.

Its leaves were razors,

its stem was a spear

that held on its tip

my earthworm heart.

You ate the grey muscle.

Your wings grew strong.

~May 2013

55 squirmy things for      the g-man

Hover mouse on image for attribution or click to go to photographer's flick'r page.

Fox, With Ravens

Fox, With Ravens

The ravens came

with the thaw

like a black snow

falling on grey,  pliant to

the sky-annulling summons,

wheeling the air

with their chaos kiss,

heaping the pale nude dead

with red jewels,

 beak and claw.

They sank and burned, dark

torch to signal fire.

That's where I found you

at last, jubilant

among the foxes

knowing

corpse or raven,

tonight you sleep

belly full.

~May 2013

posted for   real toads

Challenge: Out of Standard with Izy:"And you will know spring by its teeth"

As part of her usual go-against the grain approach, the one and only Isadora Gruye asks us to write of the underside, the other side, of sweet Spring.

Images:  Top, Artist unknown, via She Who Is, Facebook

Footer,  The Fox, by Franz Marc, 1913, Public Domain 

via wikipaintings.org

Violet Serenade

Violet Serenade

In the dead hours

I try to remember

why they put me here,

what happened before the trial.

I try to remember the long ago

tune, violet in the gypsy twilight,

the fiddle scrape outside the window

that painted the difference between

a cell and a home.

All I hear in the tiptoe fog
is a grey twist of sound

that might be
the plague wagon's caterwaul

but I choose not to

bring out my dead.
 

In the paralyzed hours

when even the bonecleaners are still

I pace continually
fourteen steps across and back
while shadows hold their séance,

try to remember
which spirit to ask
for the shape of the song,
the one who will build me
on this cold floor

the circle of the dance,

the dissolving fire

of a purple skirt, and

the calling serenade
of barbwire violins.

~May 2013




 posted for   real toads
Sunday Mini-Challenge: Violet
Kim Nelson challenges us with the many shades of violet. Mine is rather dark, and not very mini, I'm afraid.

 

Hover mouse on image for attribution, or click to go to photographer's flick'r page.

 

Garden Interlude

The garden is finally waking up a bit, so for those who don't get to see my constant photographic barrage on facebook, I thought I would post a few of my very amateur photos of  flowers, 

suitable for any occasion, especially a

Happy Mother's Day!

Sweet William, sedum and Love in a Mist

Starting the container garden

Viola 'Halo Violet'

Larkspur & barberry

Wishbone flower (Torenia)

Dutch & German Iris

Spanish lavender

Verbena 'Homestead Purple'

Have a great weekend, everyone.