Art and Earth

because earth Without Art is Just "Eh."

24 notes &

A Thought on Haiku (By A Humble Haiku Master)

I would like briefly to discuss what seems to me a common and easily correctable fault that I often encounter among the many haiku that I read on Twitter, Google+ and here at WordPress. I appreciate the amateur, hobbyist nature of haiku; I am myself an amateur and a hobbyist. However, even amateurs wish to improve their craft, and I believe that addressing this one issue in composition would lead easily to more vivid and specific poems.

I have in mind what I will call the use of summary lines in haiku. These lines are always abstract, and seem to function as interpolated titles telling the reader in no uncertain terms what the poem is “about.” Take the following examples, which I’ve written to illustrate my point:

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Filed under poem poems poetry lit haiku poets writing writers james ciriaco

104 notes &

One fence post taller—Holds round black moons full of death,Silent wings falling

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Ann says: This is a barn owl, which is found throughout the temperate zones of the world.  Relative to other bird species, barn owls are flourishing, perhaps due to their fondness for nesting in barns and other man-made structures.
Copyright 2014 by Ormond
Image: Richard Young

One fence post taller—
Holds round black moons full of death,
Silent wings falling

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Ann says: This is a barn owl, which is found throughout the temperate zones of the world.  Relative to other bird species, barn owls are flourishing, perhaps due to their fondness for nesting in barns and other man-made structures.

Copyright 2014 by Ormond

Image: Richard Young

Filed under poem poems poetry haiku animals owls halloween october scary predators night samhain

26 notes &

“Oh rascal children of Gaza. You who constantly disturbed me with your screams under my window. You who filled every morning with rush and chaos. You who broke my vase and stole the lonely flower on my balcony. Come back, and scream as you want and break all the vases. Steal all the flowers. Come back… Just come back…”
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Ann says: Juma may be referring to the aftermath of the 2008 Gaza War. The conflict destroyed tens of thousands of homes, many hospitals, and nearly all of Gaza’s family farms, leaving 50,000 homeless and resulting in acute food shortages. (Wikipedia).
Khaled Juma, Palestinian poet
Image: Ayan Villafuerte

“Oh rascal children of Gaza. You who constantly disturbed me with your screams under my window. You who filled every morning with rush and chaos. You who broke my vase and stole the lonely flower on my balcony. Come back, and scream as you want and break all the vases. Steal all the flowers. Come back… Just come back…”

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Ann says: Juma may be referring to the aftermath of the 2008 Gaza WarThe conflict destroyed tens of thousands of homes, many hospitals, and nearly all of Gaza’s family farms, leaving 50,000 homeless and resulting in acute food shortages. (Wikipedia).

Khaled Juma, Palestinian poet

Image: Ayan Villafuerte

Filed under poem poems poetry gaza arab-israeli conflict arab-israeli war israel lit art Illustration parents kids poverty war Gaza War gaza strip

13 notes &

ARIEL (Poem by Sylvia Plath)
Stasis in darkness. Then the substanceless blue Pour of tor and distances.
God’s lioness, How one we grow, Pivot of heels and knees! — The furrow
Splits and passes, sister to The brown arc Of the neck I cannot catch,
Nigger-eye Berries cast dark Hooks ——
Black sweet blood mouthfuls, Shadows. Something else
Hauls me through air —— Thighs, hair; Flakes from my heels.
White Godiva, I unpeel —— Dead hands, dead stringencies.
And now I Foam to wheat, a glitter of seas. The child’s cry
Melts in the wall. And I Am the arrow,
The dew that flies, Suicidal, at one with the drive Into the red
Eye, the cauldron of morning.
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Ann says: Ariel is one of Sylvia Plath’s best-known poems.  In it, a woman rides a horse into a bright light, gradually merging with the beast.  A “tor” is a hill.

Ariel by Sylvia Plath 
Image: Alex Colville

ARIEL (Poem by Sylvia Plath)

Stasis in darkness.
Then the substanceless blue
Pour of tor and distances.

God’s lioness,
How one we grow,
Pivot of heels and knees! — The furrow

Splits and passes, sister to
The brown arc
Of the neck I cannot catch,

Nigger-eye
Berries cast dark
Hooks ——

Black sweet blood mouthfuls,
Shadows.
Something else

Hauls me through air ——
Thighs, hair;
Flakes from my heels.

White
Godiva, I unpeel ——
Dead hands, dead stringencies.

And now I
Foam to wheat, a glitter of seas.
The child’s cry

Melts in the wall.
And I
Am the arrow,

The dew that flies,
Suicidal, at one with the drive
Into the red

Eye, the cauldron of morning.




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Ann says: Ariel is one of Sylvia Plath’s best-known poems.  In it, a woman rides a horse into a bright light, gradually merging with the beast.  A “tor” is a hill.

Ariel by Sylvia Plath

Image: Alex Colville

Filed under poem poems lit sylvia plath illustration poetry classic literature classic poems classic poetry confessional poetry life death symbolism

5 notes &

Introducing Mustafa, Ekphrastic* Poet!

If you like my blog, you’ll love his. All the poetry is by Mustafa, and he has a great eye for images.

image

One Little Star

***
My little girl danced in a grand theatre,

Where the magical music would lift her to fly.

She leapt and gamboled within constellations

Amidst the veils of celestial sky,

And I watched her from the sea of darkness,

Where her brilliance caught the tear in my eye.”

***
~Mustafa Demiri

Mustafa’s Tumblr

*Ekphrastic poetry: Poetry that visually describes a work of art.

Filed under poem poems poetry mustafa demiri lit poets on tumblr tumblr poets Illustration

40 notes &

Corkscrew Angels (Poem by Dan Collins)




Corkscrew angels are surfing the mind
Box Elder, Maple, Elm, Cotton Wood,
miniature thoughts; mighty forests aligned.
Corkscrew angels are surfing the mind,
gliding intent, as if they were blind.
Budding with promise, imminent good,
corkscrew angels are surfing the mind,
Box Elder, Maple, Elm, Cotton Wood.




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Ann says: When trees disperse their seeds on the wind, they can float on the breeze or they can flutter to the ground. Maples, box elders, cotton woods and elms all have winged seeds (samara) that flutter to the ground. This makes it more likely that the seed will land in a site suitable for germination that is not directly under its parent.

image

Copyright 2014 by Dan Collins, aka Atticus.

Images: 1. The Guardian.com  2. Stock

Filed under Atticus trees spring angels poetry art lit education maple cottonwood box edlder elm science botany amenchory samara biology Dan Collins

12 notes &

Desert Plume (Ghost Rider): Free-Write by by Selene Skye

image

geldings batter themselves against what they lost

my two-step across the sand

only rubs the wound raw

mares look through me

wild eyes rolling

they don’t do well with a see-through girl


stallions understand my pressure

eager to pound my heart

with bone hooves

mounting bareback


my saddle their spine

they give me lead

plumes of white breath

flared nostrils


the sky breaks open

lightening between my breasts

rain

my cloak


screaming across the desert floor

a girl

a horse

an open vein in a canyon


someday this memory will reopen

and I can stop pretending to be a flesh-and-blood woman

nudge the hourglass

sand streaming up my thighs

a stallion

to give lead

to my pressure


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Ann says:  Most of Selene’s poems, including this one, go straight from her head onto paper with no edits. I envy the image stream that wells up from Selene’s subconscious mind, resulting in her unique brand of surrealism.

Copyright 2014 by Selene Skye.

Image: Stock; artist unknown

Filed under selene skye poem poems poetry lit horses druid pagan riding dreams surreal redemption free-write

50 notes &

Hers is the danceof wood and water,things that endure,things that pass.The river lives in the flow of her arms,the geographyof her hips.The wood echosin the insistent beatof her feet,the steady drummingcalling you hometo a place that only women know.

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Flamenco Dancer © The Raven’s Song (aka Jude Dippold), 2014

Image: Frida Kahlo.

Hers is the dance
of wood and water,
things that endure,
things that pass.
The river lives 
in the flow of her arms,
the geography
of her hips.
The wood echos
in the insistent beat
of her feet,
the steady drumming
calling you home
to a place 
that only women know.

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Flamenco Dancer © The Raven’s Song (aka Jude Dippold), 2014

Image: Frida Kahlo.

Filed under theravenssong jude dippold poem poems poetry frida kahlo druid pagan eco mother earth eco-feminism lit art illustration

16 notes &

Mirror (Surreal Prose Poetry by Abhishek Sengupta)

image

One day, my reflection stepped out of the mirror
As I sat unaware reading the newspaper.
She came up from behind. Tiptoed
Like a child. Touching my shoulder.
And it’s difficult greeting your own reflection
But we hugged. We sat beside each other on the sofa
Discussing the weather and politics.
Our views clashed. Perpetually.

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Filed under the clown poetry prose lit illustration twins shadows doppelganger art surrealism short story surreal Borges abhishek sengupta

6 notes &

112 Plays

CASTAWAY (A Birth Song— Click on Arrow Above)

I welcome you my little man
Stolen from your sleepy land
Cut loose from her, my caloused hand
Branded you an exile

The ocean parted when you wailed
And debris of your catastrophe
Set sail inside a silver cup
That she handed to me

No ocean deep, no mountain tall
No liberty, no prison vault
Can keep my baby refugee
From his own inland sea

Where he can play castaway

Now on a dolphin’s back I come to you
Bounding from across the blue
Swollen flood inside my vein
To try to explain

How someday far below the moon 
You may live beside a green lagoon
And store up pearls for skipping stones
And you’ll never be alone

Ocean fall or ocean rise
I see her deep, deep in your eyes
I’m an ocean apart from you
But you’ll always be a part of me

Cause I can play castaway
Two can play castaway
Three can play castaway
We all play castaway
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Ann says:  Sure, this is about the birth of a child, but what’s this “inland sea” that seems to be so important? Richard Shindell has studied in both Catholic and Buddhist monasteries. The inner sea seems to represent our still, inner core— the peace that is always available inside us, via meditation or prayer.  We can store our pearls there.

Composed and performed by Richard Shindell

Filed under music songs ballads richard shindell birth peace meditation lit illustration folk music loev couples parents babies christian buddhist mindfulness

27 notes &

THE DAY INTERNET DIED (Surreal Short Story by Boris Glikman)

image


It was widely known that Internet had been ailing for some time. Its poor health had made it rather slipshod in the execution of its duties. Some people had to endure days of frustrating waiting until an online connection was established, while for others the connection kept going on and off every second, like a flickering light globe.   

For a while Internet hovered in a half-dead condition, with one foot in the grave, and mankind held its breath, fearing Internet would continue to deteriorate and then give up the ghost altogether.

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Filed under Boris Glikman story short story internet web neutrality surrealism electronic age internet addiction addiction lit prose humor satire

63 notes &

Listen
with the night falling we are saying thank you
we are stopping on the bridges to bow for the railings
we are running out of the glass rooms
with our mouths full of food to look at the sky
and say thank you
we are standing by the water looking out
in different directions…

with the animals dying around us
our lost feelings we are saying thank you
with the forests falling faster than the minutes
of our lives we are saying thank you
with the words going out like cells of a brain
with the cities growing over us like the earth

we are saying thank you faster and faster
with nobody listening we are saying thank you
we are saying thank you and waving
dark though it is

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Ann says: Poet W.S. Merwin said in an interview with Kenyon Review“You know that word ‘dominion’? It has another meaning which was never mentioned around the translations. It also means ‘understanding.’” One should understand the other creatures of the earth, and that kind of a relationship.”

In honor of Krister Carlstad, who never lets us forget that we are in the sixth extinction.

All images copyright 2014 by Krister Carlstad.  Excerpt from the poem Thanks by W.S. Merwin.

Filed under poem poems poetry lit w.s.merwin animals art illustration conservation technology eco sixth extinction ecology