Trace of Crow Snow
wings finger the snow
like hands pushing up from a bed–
who cares what he said/she said (you/me)
in the face of crow tracks
the bones of flight, nighted,
take-off
oh caw, here’s
my response–oh,
awe–
*********************
drafty poem for Fireblossom (Shay’s) prompt on Real Toads to write something relating to crows. Pic is mine, all rights reserved.
Quotidian
I am asked to write about love
as an everyday object,
and I think of our down blanket, which we use all year
in the mountains, though you grow warm about as soon as you take root
while everything human in me seems cut off
from its grounding–I’m talking feet but also
metaphorically–
And I think too (still waxing symbolic) of our lack
of bathing suits, an aspect of the isolated streams
in our mountains, the way that lack allows us
to really feel flow’s
caress and grip;
and okay, it’s a little precious
to talk of love in terms of down blankets and lacks
of bathing suits–even though I could go on at length
about loft and stretch–
because honestly it would probably be a lot more interesting if I’d just move
to the bodies beneath
the down blanket, the lack
of bathing suit–
to the lavender caverns of muscle (yours),
the pales of lugubrious flesh (yes, those would be
mine)
and whatever it is curves as gently
as a feather
when it rests,
what keeps afloat a head (let’s call it
your shoulder),
what blankets a shoulder
(let’s call it
my head),
that what
that touches both our sides
that warms,
that bares–
***********************
Very drafty poem for April and Sanaa’s prompt on Real Toads to write of love in the context of an everyday object. Pic is mine–it wasn’t really drawn for this poem, but I like it! All rights reserved.
stucco knobbly as charcoal briquets
the smell of hot dogs some idyll
of summer–sweating to
burst–
then that grass
dashed out on–for it was evening and we were neon
with it, free, it seemed late June, forever–
whose blades felt like 1000 leaps
softly landed–
that grass that laid down on, breathing
after a game, smelled
like a history of flight,
which is not made of nearly so much sky
as one might imagine–
**********************
drafty poem for April, Real Toads open link; pic mine, all rights reserved.
Getting Over
Some look for fences
even in open fields; how else
to find wings?
*********************
drafty poem for April for Isadora Gruye’s prompt on Real Toads to write above obstacles – over, under, through–drawing is mine, all rights reserved.
Easter (American Sentences)
March–skirt puffs up
like blossoms
blown back–Easter–
the net on
best hats.
April–sun crossed the nave–Easter–
waves of short white gloves almost
too warm.
Old lady’s
Easter–even the memory
of Death’s held hand
unclasps.
Its palm warm
as blossom, soft as
worn gloves, lets go for today
all stones.
********************
Draft poem for Kerry O’Connor’s prompt on Real Toads to write a poem using Allan Ginsburg 17 syllable American Sentences. Drawing mine; pastel on paper. April 2017, all rights reserved.
Villanelle of Voices Overheard in Payback 2017
(obviously, the “we” here does not speak for me.)
Rights for you? A damned disgrace.
So, why not just shut-the-“f” up
as we put you in your place
because we hate your [insert] face–
we leave the blank–you fill it up–
rights for you a damned disgrace.
Oh, maybe we’ll allow you space
to overflow, then wash, our cup,
as we put you in your place–
Your proffered talent? Total waste!
Don’t tell us that our science sucks–
rights for you are damned. Disgrace,
to us, but egg on face.
Ho ho, ha ha, it up we yuck
while we put you in your place.
Don’t care if our cum leaves a trace–
at least “true” rape should shut you up.
Rights for you a damned disgrace–
just let us put you in your place.
*************************
For Rommy’s prompt on Real Toads to write in the voice of a villain. The picture (mine) doesn’t really go with the poem, but I am using it because I find that reading books is about all that gives relief in these depressing days. Obviously, the “we” voice doesn’t speak for me here. Hopefully, it doesn’t speak for very many in actuality–
All rights reserved.
More craziness for April 2017. Charcoal on paper. All rights reserved. Karin Gustafson.
April (Easter Saturday) 2017, all rights reserved, k. gustafson.
Attempt at Good Friday pastel. All rights reserved. April 2017.
April 2017, pastel on paper, all rights reserved, Karin Gustafson.
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