Monthly Archives: March 2016

Found Poetry I

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Now that I’m hooked again on “found art” I decided to fantasize about finding shards of poetry along with the objects I find along the way.  This one is silly, and came, somehow, from the WordPress daily prompt “dirt.”

(Click on first picture and arrow to enlarge both photos.)

 

Thirst

(This poem found fastened to a pail
by a spigot on a desert trail.)

When he retired, he bought a yacht
to go and see the things he’d not
seen those years when he’d been caught
behind a desk, perusing naught.

Sailing for years under the mast,
his fishing line he cast and cast––
happier than in the past,
roving over oceans vast.

But when he’d perused all that he
could see of oceans and of sea,
he yearned to visit family
to see once more dirt, hill and tree.

He visited his daughter Sue
to try to see what they could do
their former closeness to renew
while walking out to see the view.

As the day got hot and hotter,
this roving nomad and his daughter
began to reel, began to totter
as they searched for signs of water.

And when they saw the faintest traces,
they quickly livened up their paces,
and falling flat upon their faces,
they drank and drank at the oasis.

The moral of this little tale?
If you choose to furl your sail
to wander over hill and dale,
carry some water in a pail.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/dirty/

Purple Percussion

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IMG_2312

 

http://jennifernicholewells.com/2016/03/18/color-your-world-purple-mountains-majesty/

Cornered

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Cornered

When on some strange and lonely night
the choice is whether to take flight
or stand and face off for a fight,
I hope your soul turns still and white
and that you gather strength and might

to try to find that inner light
and conquer elements of fright.
Muster all your inner sight
and draw you to your furthest height.
All your inner truths recite.

Feel the solution’s tender bite,
your inner armies to incite.
Cast off the threat that holds you tight,
and lift off, soaring like a kite––
free once more for life’s delight.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/fight/

Beach Combing

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IMG_3577“Beach Sunset” bone, shell, wood, coral, sponge, beach scrub and acrylic paint, 3.5 x 11 inches, Mixed media assemblage by Judy Dykstra-Brown, March, 2016

Beach Combing

I gave nothing to the sea, so she gave nothing back.
It was as though she looked and thought, “There’s nothing that you lack.”
It’s true that I have all I need of food and friends and fun,
and yet I still lack something that’s waiting to be won.

It isn’t gained by medals, by prizes or by fame,
for it is some other thing, bereft of rank or name.
There is some magic in the world that I go looking for
that has no set place where it lives, no windowpanes or door.

I’ve found it once or twice before, in places far afield
by accident, for if you try to force it, it won’t yield.
It isn’t found at parties, a fiesta nor a fete.
If you go looking for it, the magic will abate.

It’s found in how you do things, in what manner, at what pace.
If you reach too quickly, it will vanish with no trace.
I can’t tell you how to gain it, for I fear that I don’t know.
I just know that when I found it was when I was going slow.

Bougainvillea Shadows: A Flower a Day, March 17, 2015

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Carried away by its more flashy parts, sometimes we overlook the subtleties of nature.  I found these shadow shots of bougainvilleas to be as intriguing as the flowers themselves.

(CLICK on first picture, then on arrows to increase size and view entire gallery.)

 

SELF ON A SHELF

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SELF ON A SHELF

P3310265 - Version 2

 

On my soul like a shelf
sits my own self
small as an elf
all by itself.

These four lines have popped up in my mind at various times in my life, but they are unpinned to any further memory.  Where did I read them?  Perhaps in a poetry anthology used when I last taught poetry 35 years ago, or perhaps in college. Google fails me and I can’t find its author.  I try various portions of the poem, but still, no cigar.  Google takes the poem apart and shows me dozens of posts that contain all these words,but none where they are stuck together in order.

Finally, in an article from Southern Review, I find a piece by John Montague that references his last communication from Theodore Roethke, but it seems that once again my memory has failed me, for his version is:

In a hand like a bowl
Danced my own soul,
Small as an elf,
All by itself.

Since my favorite college writing professor was a student of Roethke’s, it makes sense that this is why I remember these lines and that it was Roethke who wrote them; but since Montague describes the lines as “Blakesian,” I have to make sure that Roethke wasn’t just quoting William Blake.  I feed the correct lines into Google and finally, win success.  They are the opening lines of the poem “Restored” written by Theodore Roethke!

So, the first two lines are my own, the second two Roethke’s–a sort of nonofficial collaboration that actually makes me think more than the original.  Could “the soul” actually be our real authentic self and the rest of us just experimentation?  If there is a ruling hand in the universe, is it playing games with us–sending us out lifetime after lifetime to see how we’ll do in various situations? Like cans of Campbell’s soup lined up on a shelf, our present life is merely the flavor of the day.  Another reincarnation, another flavor.

As I grow older,  I increasingly think of life as a game–the entire universe the amusement park of a colossal mind keeping itself entertained. If we call that mind God and profess that he sees even the smallest sparrow fall, it is a testament to both the intricacy and the incredible efficiency of that mind and the interconnectedness of nature as the organizational structure by which he keeps it all straight.

 
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/shelf/

Home again, home again, home from the sea!

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DSC09810
Finally home.  I got out of the car after driving 6 hours and had such a bad cramp that Maggie, who stayed in my house while I was gone, had to run get the cider vinegar bottle for me to have a swig.  Good cure for cramps.  Now my dining room is full of a full car load of stuff. (The boxes in this photo are only a few of the items I need to put away.) I’ll deal with it tomorrow!  Good to be home but it was so hard to leave the beach.

After packing until 3 in the morning last night (this morning) in La Manzanilla, I thought I would sleep until 9, post my blog and be off by 10, but that was not to be.  Here are some excerpts from today’s Skypes to okcforgottenman:

11:42 a.m.: Damn.  All packed up—every inch of the car filled and I can’t find any of my eyeglasses.  I have 2 pair of far vision and neither is anywhere to be found—including my “good” progressive photogray superlight frameless (almost invisible) glasses that cost as much as my first car.  I’ve unpacked two cases but just can’t unpack the entire car.  Story of my life.

12:06 p.m.: Unpacked most of the car and suitcases…no glasses.  Packed it all up again and started to lock car to go into house and didn’t have my car keys!!! (Expletive deleted.) Unpacked everything I’d unpacked and repacked and when I finally found car keys, they were near the front driver’s door where I discovered my cheap pair of backup driving glasses.  Phew.  But, still missing my $900 all-inclusive glasses. Packed up again repositioning things and when I went to lock door…my car keys were missing again!!!!  Something doesn’t want me to leave. Found them in back seat under one of the suitcases.  I think I’m sorta flustered, don’t you?

12:08 p.m.: Gonna go get ready to leave.  Took a shower three hours ago when I thought I was about to leave but I’m soaking wet again.  Had to change clothes.  I’m wearing my nightgown to drive!!!  It is a dress, really, but pretty sheer in the sunlight.  I won’t go in the sunlight.

8:56 p.m.: I’m home and Pasiano carried all my stuff in but left it piled in dining room, except for the 5 boxes of shells and found art sculptures in various stages of completion which we put on shelves in the garage. I left La Manz at 12:30 and got home at 6. Also delivered something to Carol and two books to Dianne so it’s possible I didn’t get on the road till around 1. Took between 5.5 and 6 hours. Not bad. I enjoyed the drive home. Finished listening to “The Hummingbird’s Daughter.” Such a good book and I discovered based on a real person..Set in Mexico prior to the Mexican Revolution. I’ve been talking to Maggie about La Manz nonstop. Poor gal. But she seemed interested.

I was so sad to leave La Manzanilla, especially since the last few days were so wonderful—running into friend after friend and all going for meals or dancing or doing collaborative art with my new friend (this trip) Jan.  I ended up paying 1/2 deposit to rent the same beach house for three months next year! I’m wondering if I had so many problems leaving because I just didn’t want to leave or because if I’d left on time I’d have had a terrible wreck or just because I’m getting old and these memory snafus and confusions will just keep getting worse?  At any rate, it now feels wonderful to be home as well. It’s been fun telling Maggie about the highlights. Hopefully I’ll have time tomorrow to post pictures of The Fly Restaurant—in between putting away a mountain of art supplies, clothing, kitchen supplies, food items, fans and various comforts of home I took with me.  I fear I don’t travel light…

Tomorrow I’m also driving to Tonala (near Guadalajara) to pick up dear friends Rhonda and Dan,  who flew to Mexico a month or more ago, went to Oaxaca and then to San Miguel and are now taking the bus here to visit me. Now for a swim and bed.  oxox Judy

Envy

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                                                                           Envy

I need to leave within the hour to drive back home so no time to write a new poem on the subject of envy, but here is one I wrote  while ago on the subject. Please go here to read it:  https://judydykstrabrown.com/2015/05/08/the-dance/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/envy/

Bougainvilleas––Flower of the day Mar 16, 2016

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The wild tumble of bougainvillea actually forms a wall in my friend’s open-walled house.  She lives about as outside as it is possible to live without actually living outside.  Later on this week, I’ll show you her house, studio and art.  I love the wildness of these intermixed vines, the shadows and the colors. Here’s another one for you, Cee.

Click on the first image and then on arrows to enlarge photos and see entire gallery.

http://ceenphotography.com/2016/03/15/flower-of-the-day-march-16-2016-tulip-field-from-last-year/

Color Your World Pink Sherbet

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http://jennifernicholewells.com/2016/03/15/color-your-world-pink-sherbet/