Friday, January 27, 2012

Stardust and Antique Rose

African Mask, Crocker Art Museum
—Photo by Cynthia Linville, Sacramento

—Janet L. Pantoja, Woodinville, WA

Wild winds of winter weather
Whoosh through the evergreen trees
Whipping and flinging branches
With such ease and expertise
Wide and far—leave behind a
War scene—green foliage on
White foam snowed on the landscape.


—Helen Treulufian, Sacramento

Words . . .
they float up in my mind.
Do I need to let them all out?
Or shall I pause and think before I speak?

Weigh their effect on others?
Or are they as light as feathers,
almost weightless,
and therefore have no effect?

I think not—kind, gentle, loving—
the spoken word.
The other thoughts and words
don't all need to be said.
Let them float on by, or use them
to express myself in the written word.

Poetry—an outlet for
opinions . . .
ponderings . . .
wonderings . . .

And, please don't put words in my mouth.
I may have to spit them out
and the spittle may get you wet.
I wouldn't want that to happen.


—Helen Treulufian

How come,
if we have stardust within us,
we don’t shine?

I’m sure there are still combustible sparks
inside us.

And I say to myself, what is my flint and
what is the strike that will inflame my soul?

Tell me, why not?
Are we frightened moths hiding
our wings in the mud,
our eyes bound tightly with fear—
of our gloriousness?


—Carol Louise Moon, Sacramento

So lovesick,
so homesick,
so full of rheumatoid arthritis.
So… standing on a million pointed stars—
the journey home, such a disappointment.

She died along the way in February,
before the month of May—
before she could even stay long enough
to ensure a good fit with her surroundings,
her flounderings, her groundings.


—Carol Louise Moon

Turquoise, being the curious color
of the future, propels me forward;
the stuff of dreams in visions of
turquoise. Flying geese which
usually waddle are now riding bi-
cycles down the cherry lanes in teal
garden-parks. London-blue dogs
sniff at turquoise nuggets which
dot the off-blue landscape.

Sprinklers sprinkle lawns at 9am
with a pale version of aquamarine.

By now, I suspect the very nerves
of my spinal cord are a deeper
shade of turquoise. Turquoise
won’t leave me alone.


—Carol Louise Moon

I have an old, old dictionary:
page after page of words.
(Well, of course!)
And, a portrait of Noah Webster.
(Why not?)

On page 109 is the definition of
Arabian brown: a moderate to
strong brown that is redder and
slightly darker than oak, and
darker than Vassar tan.
(Vassar tan?!)

Well… we now know what
Noah Webster knows.
(I suppose!)


—Carol Louise Moon

If we’re not careful
we could fall
mint green,
sink below the surface—
our tongues treading sea foam
our toes at the ends of our legs
trying to grasp onto
a lighter shade
of stability.


—Carol Louise Moon

Pale Purple has been so
misunderstood, underestimated,
always compared to
Periwinkle and Tanzanite.
Channel 6 did a feature story
on Pale Purple, dubbing it the
(quote) Color of Low
Self-Esteem (unquote).
What a shame. What a sham!


Today's LittleNip: 

—Mitz Sackman, Murphys

All life is choices
From patterns seen and unseen
Open one door
Another closes
Open your heart
Your mind can see further
Trust your hand
To choose the right door
Let your heart fly
Through the window beyond
To the rest of your life
You now have chosen


Thanks to today's lady-chefs for these culinary delights, including these fine mask photos from Cynthia Linville. Welcome to Helen Treulufian, who comes to us from the Women's Wisdom Art program in Sacramento ( that is facilitated by Davis Poet Laureate and SnakePal Allegra Silberstein. And welcome back to Michelle (Mitz) Sackman from Murphys, who's been absent from the Kitchen for a while, partly due to a nastily broken wrist that required a plate—and no, a Kitchen plate wouldn't do. Carol Louise Moon sent us these tasty riffs on color (yesterday we were talking about what inspires us), and Janet Pantoja sends us a Pleides based on our Seed of the Week. If you'd like to fool around with Pleides (the 7-line, 7-syllable/line, same-cap-letter-starting-each-line form), you can exchange them online w/The Moon and Stars Pleiades Circle, care of Carol Louise Moon at; include "Pleiades" in the subject line.

And nobody corrected me on my misspelling of "tuanartsa" yesterday, which should've been "tuanortsa"—being, of course, "astronaut" spelled backwards. For more about tuanortsas, see  It seems like you can either repeat the middle line or not. Carl Schwartz's example yesterday didn't... 


 African Mask, de Young Museum, San Francisco
—Photo by Cynthia Linville