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Monday, June 04, 2012

Those Dastardly Dandelions!

Dandelion
—Photo by Janet Pantoja


 AWAKENING
—Janet Pantoja, Woodinville, WA

S lowly the landscape greens . . .
P recocious flowers pop up everywhere,
R esurrect themselves from deep sleep
I nto glorious splendor—a palette of colorful
N ewness.  Freshness abounds in floral
G rowth, variegated greenery, fragrance.

___________________

MT NEST – Da Capo
—Janet Pantoja

How many times can a person have an empty nest?
Animals and birds experience this
 Phenomena annually.
My children are grown—flew the coop long ago . . .
returned with their kids, my precious grandchildren.
I started over—Da Capo—from the top, nurturing new
lives/new compositions. 
Presto they matured, developed
into independent (almost ) little people
 before my eyes. My grandchildren’s rooms
now stand empty and quiet for longer and
 longer periods of time  . . . books unread,
stuffed animals strewn on their beds,
cars parked, dolls in various states
of undress, tea parties passé
The grand-nest feels
empty and I wonder
what the finale
will bring.
Will the
same
melody
 repeat it-
self in great
grandchildren?
Will
 I
be
empty-nested
thrice?



Daisies and Dandelions
—Photo by Janet Pantoja


DASTARDLY!
—Janet Pantoja

Daisies and Dandelions
Decorate the grassy field.
Dare we condemn such beauty?
Do they not enhance the view?
Disrespectful gardeners 
Drive mowers that mutilate,
Destroy flowers—call them weeds!

______________________

A TALE UNTOLD
(inspired by the marvelous photos of D.R. Wagner)
 —Caschwa, Sacramento

It is true that a picture tells
a thousand words. And then consider
a black and white photograph

triggering waves of
vivid memories of
what it doesn’t show

like a beautiful centerfold model
carefully poised behind bubbles
revealing only the viewer’s desires

like the double bass artistry of Miles Davis’
sidemen Ron Carter and Dave Holland
playing lines better felt than heard

like depictions of un-mowed grass
with weathered warnings in text about
snakes unseen, rattles yet still

like a poem in print
sans the living, breathing reader
a dormant newspaper still in the rack

like the boxy package
that holds a fresh hot pizza
or a ribbon-wrapped gift

classic television fare
from the '50’s before color TV,
before “out of the closet”

those B&W photos
have many stories to tell
to eyes full of color.

______________________

NAMING RIVERS
—Taylor Graham, Placerville

The river is our mirror blue as time.
We name its tributaries, as we swim
the shallows. Cedar Run whose floodings climb
above the running-board; the Kuskokwim,

Cosumnes, Deshka of the salmon's hymn.
Reflection rippling its bright pantomime,
the river is our mirror. Blue as time,
we name its tributaries. As we swim

above the deeps, below the view sublime,
we lose our bearings. How the light grows dim,
our wanderlust mysterious as whim.
Shall now the current catch us in its rhyme?
The river is our mirror, blue as time.

_____________________

TWO STARLINGS
—Taylor Graham

Valley oaks
surround the corral, spokes
of shadow on a white summer day.

Each tree leans its branches to breeze, a grace at play.
Who paints for you such magic, lest it pass away?
You sit under a Grace's dreamings,

lost in patterns of wings,
two starlings.
 
________________________

FADE AWAY
—Taylor Graham

Why such long-
ing in that hearts-blood song
by the harbor at sunset, red notes

of hibiscus petals nailed and tattered? Men's throats
fill with fado, fated music as the small boats
drift, and ocean laps against the quay.

Blue moments of a day
fade away.

________________________
 
Thanks to today's poets, who've been inspired by forms, music and by each other's work lately. (Can you spot Janet Pantoja's Pleides?) Carl Schwartz (Caschwa) puts his inspiration in the up-front inscription, and Taylor Graham writes that hers ("a rondel and a couple of 3X8's") were inspired by D.R. Wagner and by Brigit Truex (see last Thursday's post].
 
_______________________ 

Today's LittleNip:

INSIDE-OUTSIDE THOUGHTS
—Janet Pantoja

Clouds drop tears from grey skies.
Raindrops plop into circles,
make bubbles in puddles.

Pianist fingers ivory/ebony keys,
arpeggiates sweeping melodies
improvised from deep within the soul.

Butter-topped popcorn—
percussive salty snack—allures.
Lemonade adds sour accompaniment.

Inclement weather outside . . .
Relaxed atmosphere inside . . .
Initiate penchant for penning poetry.

______________________

—Medusa


Violas
—Photo by Janet Pantoja