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yellow zucchini blossoms
are delicious
not only to the bees
but also to me
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buzz
13 Replies
Author Archives: nancy marie davis
dog lesson
.
.
.
these are the dog days
of which the afternoons
would be best spent
resting your miserable hot paws
under the shade of the nearest truck
.
.
ripe
red tomato
ripe for the picking
slide a chair into the grass
bring a salt shaker
and feel the juice drip off your chin
cat can feel her nose…
.
.
Can you touch your toes?
Can you feel your nose?
Now try and watch branches move
when the wind blows
so you can
see which way it’s going
when it goes.
.
sweet pea
.
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To Do & Not To Do:
1. Start a friday photo posting.
2. Rest from posting on Saturdays and Sundays.
travel
Have you ever traveled and have things go way differently than planned? I once spent the
night in the Denver Airport with kids. I have learned a few more tricks about air travel since
then, but, i’m still not your first-class business traveler that is able to saunter-in with all the
perks from spending an unusual amount of time flying for being a creature with no feathers.
I have been doing more reading this week. In a way that’s like traveling and resting at
the same time. I started a visual art blog here that i would like to post in, at least once a
week, about the art of another artists, or of something that i’m doing that’s art related,
which might be pictures of someplace i’ve traveled for art viewing.
I’ve also been traveling south-of-town to a state park, to do some walking on the trails.
The trails are nice. The trees are very friendly and hospitable, and you could never meet a
more charming bunch, but they’re definitely not into traveling.
carnations
every funeral i’ve ever been to
smelled of carnations
so every time the scent comes my way
i think of my grandpa
my cousins, pam and janet
their lifeless, stiff, pale bodies
from head to hips shown
in a casket with white silk
makeup on the skin
that they never wore
before
back
on the road
psalm
.
.
I thirst for you, my whole being longs for you, in a dry and parched land where there is no water.
.
from psalm 63:1
one
.
river of water from the clouds
fall winter spring
life growing out of decay
the colours in shade and light
on this golden day
one summer
july
.
.
today
i came upon a clearing
my friends were there
silently waiting
already knowing
why i came
carry me
.
.
my heart aches for completeness
this lonely soul in skin and bone
all that i am cries out for your grace
enrapture to sweet existence in You
.
.
don’t miss
.
the mark
keeps getting higher
up there in the sky
go
get
do
make
time
for
sweet caress
give someone
a loving kiss
don’t
miss
read
lips
red
.
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Book Reading
.
Book Reading at TweetSpeak Poetry
The Anthologist by Nicholson Baker
Fiction
It’s about a poet, talking about the writing he should be doing, and
his live-in woman friend that has moved out, as well as mentioning other
odd thoughts that he tends to have. He strings the whole thing along going
from his life stuff to what he knows about rhyme and free verse poetry. It’s odd
but not too unusual, it’s frustrating in the way that our own lives can be, in
that it takes us forever and a day to get through some things, if ever. And yet,
some of the information on rhyming starts to sound okay as he relates it to
different things, like song and beat. He takes time to inform the reader of
his poetic knowledge by talking about certain poets and poems. If it were not
for the story of the love interest in Roz, and the ones about his dealings with his
friends and editor, it would basically be that introduction to the anthology that
he is trying to get himself to write. You can tell that Baker once attended a school
of music as much as he likes to emphasize the beat and rhythm of poetry in
this book.
I can understand about the sound of words and the rhythm of a line…but,
i think one can get a little too caught up in thinking about how to do something
instead of just doing it. Or even allowing it to happen. Just like the unwritten
anthology in the story.
I like how the story relates how people do things differently, which is what can
make poetry so remarkably interesting in the long run.
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photo via flicker
A LITTLE SOMETHIN' 