The spirit of a hollow moon slides sideways under cover
through a crack in heavy clouds that spread apart to hover.
An owl soars by on silent wings to seek his midnight feast,
the power of moonlit talons unleashed on tiny beast.
Another sacred life is sacrificed for hunger’s sake.
It’s all in nature’s plan, and yet I feel the mouse’s ache.
For the Sunday Whirl Wordle 563 the words are: crack sideways covers feast ache power hollow spirits sacred owl lit heavy. Photos by jdb. Mosaic by Mazinka Rutherford, La Manzanilla, Mexico.
For Cee’s FOTD
Swimming in my sorrows, I’m obliged, I fear, to share them.
My friends all shrink away and hide, hoping I will spare them.
But worries are a mother lode, and each of us a piner,
tunneling into all our woes like a trauma miner.
Then relating all of them in streams without a comma,
turning everyone we meet into a surrogate momma.
My friend Patty Martin’s decades-long project to single-handedly add to the beauty of her Wyoming town made front-page news yesterday. The flower photos I’ve been posting for the past few weeks are all from her garden both inside and outside her property. Read about her project to beautify the city block behind her home here: (Click on the blue link, not the photo.)
For Cee’s FOTD
In those final years before television
and long before computers,
we’d fly in unison
to our small town’s
sole scintillating diversion—
following the usher
to sink into that seat closest to the magic screen.
At its first ignition,
our minds automatically shifted
to an outside world
devoid of waving wheat fields,
than this view
out into the wide wide world.
Preparing for Summer
When your appetite starts knocking and you crave a light repast,
even though the time since your last meal seems too vast,
tie your cravings to a stanchion and curb their niggling prompt.
Do some calisthenics or take a forest romp.
Defenestrate those Oreos. Resist that peanut brittle.
It takes a lot of will power to make yourself more little.
Dieting’s not easy. Resolution is the pits,
but it will all be worth it when your favorite swimsuit fits!!!!
Coneflower or Echinacea
For Cee’s FOTD
Columns Galore. Pompeii, August of 2019
For RDP: Column
Click on photos to enlarge. Explanations of the sculpture are given below the poem.
The sword of guilt is something I continually hone,
and in this I feel that I am surely not alone.
Guile and temper are not exclusively my sin,
for animus is something that we all carry within.
In the early nineteenth century, animus was used to mean “temper” and was typically used in a hostile sense. In 1923, it began being used as a term in Jungian psychology to describe the masculine side of women. The anima as the unconscious feminine side of a man. (Excerpts from Wikipedia)
The photos are of my mixed media sculpture entitled Anima/Animus. The detail in the second photo symbolizes the shattering of the male side of the ego by a feminine consciousness. The metal object in the glass case is a small replica of the instrument used to sever heads from bodies in sacrificial preHispanic temple ceremonies. The hammer shattering the glass is meant to symbolize the gentling effect of the feminine on the masculine.