Category: Art - Everyday Art Every Day

NAPOWRIMO2020 - Poem 25

5/1/2020

I am not ignoring the prompt, but merely deferring it until another time in the future. It is an intriguing prompt that I wish to devote some time. Later, so I will use this opportunity to share two poems that I wrote in Aug. 2019 for an entry into a local art walk.... our local art gallery, Carnegie Gallery in Dundas, Ontario does an annual Art Walk, during Art Week, in which they team up with the Tower Poetry Society. Poets choose artworks to inspire poems and both are displayed on a walk through Dundas BIA.

Beverly
In response to “Beverly Swamp” by Lynne MacIntyre

I peer into the murk and see many me’s,
And reflections of trees.
The trees are upside-down,
And so is my frown;
When I look into the swamp.
I listen with my eyes:
Water waves with a splash
and there’s just a flash
as you dash away;
To where the wild things are,
in the dark, dark wood.
And I wonder where are you, now?

Hidden
In response to “Stoic” by Ralph Heather

So much unseen amongst your green leaves.
In your proud boughs
you gather all the creatures
that I see with my ears:
Squirrels crunch nuts;
Blue jays squaw and screech;
Chickadees chime in;
Cicadas preach;
Interrupting the blackbird’s speech.

Leaves sway,
And they give away
the spot where you play

A tree is a house, an umbrella and a playground,
interconnecting
the lives that exist within and around.

Ouch, a chestnut knocked upon my noggin!
And, I know that if a tree branch crashes to the ground,
it certainly makes a sound.

Can you see the forest for the trees?

NAPOWRIMO2020 - Poem 24

5/1/2020

Opticks

The prompt was ‘fruit’ and this somewhat recent and unshared poem has an apple in it, so I count it(;

NaPoWriMo2020 - Poem 23

5/1/2020

The prompt was to play with the alphabet (more or less). I was going to cheat and use a poem from when I did this before. Instead, I tried a new one, and Aha! I like it, but I also like the other one, so here are both...

A is for Apocalypse

Architect of anarchy, asshole archetype; And
another apeshit angry anti-asshat holy epiphany --

Aaaaarrrgghhh --

After all the awesome angelic altar-egos
effectively alienate the aliens, isolating with the best of ‘Em,
but only if it’s after eight
and, only if you’re arboreal, all upright and sturdy strong,
can you truly see all that’s wrong.

Ardent animalistic instincts above all else — so I attack,
aggressive and artfully with much ado.
Ammunition needed to amass amenities amongst
the average anomalies in this after-lifetime of allegorical irony.
No glory, like getting schmucked by a lorry, asterisk...
It might have been a bus, but it doesn’t matter when I’m dust --
Awesome August allergies in April —

Aaaachoooo --
Boo hoo. Me too.

(April 24... first write/word gathering, April 25, 2020... arranged, edited, finalized, again Apr 30/May 1)

Mouthful of Marbles

NAPOWRIMO2020 - Poem 22 - EarthDay Theme

4/30/2020

one

one sun
many moons
one love
many tombs
one earth
many rooms
many fumes
few blooms
many ruins
go boom
with doom
now gloom
it looms
fill the saloons
escape tycoons
big goons
human hoodlum unions
loosen delusions
or grow illusions

as we consume
do not assume

hope
floats
like 99 bloated red balloons
going by
before they deflate
as laws dictate
it’s innate
relate, mate ?

one faith
would be great
too late
many fates
many hates

one earth
one sun
one love

one hope

(March 8, 2019)

NAPOWRIMO2020 - Poem 19

4/27/2020

NAPOWRIMO Prompt: Write a poem based on a “walking archive.” What’s that? Well, it’s when you go on a walk and gather up interesting thing – a flower, a strange piece of bark, a rock. This then becomes your “walking archive” – the physical instantiation of your walk. If you’re unable to get out of the house (as many of us now are), you can create a “walking archive” by wandering around your own home and gathering knick-knacks, family photos, maybe a strange spice or kitchen gadget you never use. One you’ve finished your gathering, lay all your materials out on a tray table, like museum specimens. Now, let your group of materials inspire your poem! You can write about just one of the things you’ve gathered, or how all of them are all linked, or even what they say about you, who chose them and brought them together....

I walked by the crick and back home up my street and snapped some pics. Then I photoplayed and created a wee scene...

A Drunken Tale (At the Local Watering Hole)

Wise turtle tells me tall tales of ye old Captain Fundas
who’s quite known for his specific brand spitfire sass.
He lives at his lighthouse, never raising his brows
when the fish fan outwards, away from the birdy buzzards,
for frisky frolics further upstream. Was it all but a dream....
in a little fishing town, a little further down
than that other nifty place, where I saw your pretty face?

(conceived April 24, 2020, recrafted and finalized April 25, 2020)

It’s a nonsense poem, not really saying anything,
But it’s whimsical
And quirky perky:)

NAPOWRIMO2020 - Poem 18

4/27/2020

An Ode to Life’s Small Treasures;
Grandiose Unrealized Pleasures

6:30 am, the arse crack of dawn,
a time for the devil’s spawn,
or so I had thought...
I never knew such beautiful skies! I kid you not!

Opulent pearly pink, incandescent sky,
sultry shades of sorbet sashay.
Bloomy roars, reverberating cheery encouragements.
Optimistic rosy glow, vibrantly voicing hope,
radiating a golden orb of fiery faith in rocky times,
peeking out from the sinister buzzkill clouds;
Glorious red and yellow blazing, entwining flames of citrus
in sky mirrors, topsy turvy glassy reflections make me tipsy.

(Ideas/working out of ideas April 24, 2020, Written and fine-tuned April 25, 2020)

NAPOWRIMO2020 - Poem 17

4/25/2020

Prompt: write a poem that features forgotten technology

CDs Remastered; Compact Discs Rememembered

Like 8 tracks and cassettes, CDs 💿
are almost obsolete technologies,
Just ask Sam the record man

Those shiny, silver discs once dazzled me
with magic,
Or, if you’re more scientifically inclined - a semi conductor laser wrote and read music that
enticed my ears and affected my life.

That’s the magic of the mix cd.

Now, I’m left with a museum of mementos;
thousands of sparkling memories in the mixes of youth.
Unhelpful titles scrawled across
in my 13, 17, 21 year old handwriting,
Relics representing events and feelings of ‘the best days of our lives’- not!

when ‘we were young, we were free!’

Long since forgotten what the titles mean;
they used to mean the world.
Now, a total surprise and a complete mystery
you don’t solve until you slide that cd into the player...
Wait for her to load .....
and let loose all wild a n d f r e e.
On the open road, you suddenly give nod to the equivalent of a stuck record needle, or the crumbling mess of cassette tapes, or a streaming stuckness.

Going digital is the loss of the craft.
It doesn’t have that certain slant of light;
It’s just data and it’s invisible,
all up in a cloud somewhere.
With all the space in the world, you can add or delete songs on a whim.

We used to slave over our latest creation.
Couldn’t wait for all the appreciation
Everybody wang-ed, everybody chung-ed
Everybody had fun tonight
Finite selections - 80 minutes, 18 or 19, 20 songs max -
Gotta be selective,
You had to pick and choose
Keep a specific theme or mood
Order mattered - Let’s face it,
No one knew how to work the shuffle
on those awkward clunky Discmans anyway! -
You had to be certain.
Once burned, burned forever!

Oh, and,
Never in the right case at the right time;
Chasing the perfect song,
Hunting for happiness and happy surprises.

That’s the magic of the mix cd.

(April 23, 2020)

NAPOWRIMO2020 - Poem 15

4/23/2020

Poem #15... Prompt: a poem inspired by a favourite piece of music. I tried a Fibanocci Poem (syllables/line: 1 1 2 3 5 8 5 3 2 1 1 and repeat).
Because. Tool’s “Lateralus”....

Creative Spirit

i
am
woman,
hear me roar.
modern renaissance
tendencies awaken in me
in these crazy times,
keep me sane,
alive.
i
cry
out.
my
battle
caterwaul
explodes from within.
i’m a multipotentialite;
anything is possible.
ev’rything!
all things
can
be
if
you’re
ready
to receive
from the universe
infinite possibilities
spiral back to the
universe.
new light
shine
on

NAPOWRIMO2020 - Poem 14

4/21/2020

Prompt: write a poem about the poems/poets, etc that inspired me to write poems.

Light My Fire

Music:
a muse
to amuse me.

Jim Morrison, You Touch Me, Baby

Mr Mojo Rising, the Lizard King
who could do anything,
except live.

Died, she cried.
When he was gone, she cried.

She still lives on Love Street.
Memories linger long on Love Street
as she drives in the moonlight.

Far from her hazy hippy self
an L.A. woman, now,
where people are strange.

She laments the end
with a feast of friends
in strange days.

Alive, she cries.

She
lives.

NAPOWRIMO2020 - Poem 10

4/19/2020

2 hay (na) ku sonnets, based on certain song titles downloaded to my iPhone iTunes...

Advice from A - L for Troubled Times

Life
Is closed
Living is not

Awake
At last
Beds are burning

Cold
Dead heart
Long hard road

Intolerance
and hurt
Float on by

Walk the line
At world’s end

Enjoy
the silence
Of dearly departed

Insane
Jungle boogie
In the brain

Just
can’t get
enough karma police

Killing
in name
of King Lionheart

Cracked
but not
Broken in pieces

Kingdom of rust
Living on Prayers