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.
___________________
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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!
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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].
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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