September

Each name is abrasive to my ear

Each repetition of tone

each common name

A tree of ethnicity,

bleeding from its roots

words that cut like razors

Can not offer any glimmer of peace

To families

The sad privilege to recite

The somber eyes and the perfect quote

Seem pointless

For the empty air above us

Even now they’re sweeping the street

And taking down signs

The scar, the building, a sore

That never heals

We ring our hands in crowds

We wait for our moment

They live without

A child that will never know her dad

A mother that will never watch their son

Marry

Buried on that horrible day

Where one moment America united

On the precipice of pure evil

And we see ourselves as people

A nation under assault

United we stand

Shoulder to shoulder

They recite the names

We will be stronger, resolute

But never the same…

All the sea creatures agreed to coexist....that is except the shrimp, for some reason he wasn't having it!

The Exquisite Garden: a prelude

This is a new series of poetry it will be complete with photographs of the garden as well as paintings. The premise of this collection is the idea of a garden, it has been the escape that I needed during darker times and it is symbolic of how I see life. There are many regular plants that I plant every year and they all have some sort of symbolic significance. The reason I started gardening in the first place was to attract wildlife, than it was to learn for the subjects in my painting and finally it was for peace and calm. Nature has always been a significant  part of my creativity and this is the culmination of the experiences that surround a gardener soothed and haunted by nature.

I will create a final post and most likely a self published book the near future when it is complete.

Bird song 1

I love the sound of the wren

It sings

Literally,

Excited swirls of notes from high to low

And back

Barely seen

The streaming tones

Through deep green leaves

Constant

Emphatic

Determined

But still

The mourning dove

Keeps me still

Keeps me remembering

The sadness

The end of summer

Calm and pensive

Unshakable

It doesn’t sing

It hums

Much like the cicada

Much like the breath of a late summer day

But I seek out the wren

I seek out its beautiful sound

in hope that it will…sing again

An Absence

I was feeling absence beneath the shadows

Of trees

I was barely a presence

Among the dragonflies

And flies

Buzzing

I was barely flesh, barely bone

Nothing

Amidst the primevial moment

Where the garden became

Its’ tender

Out of my reach

The dying leaves

The starving thirsting

Stems

Bend and meet the ground

I can’t save them

I can barely walk

In the stagnant heat

And all my expectations

Seem like rain

In late August heat

Pointless

The gardener

With hands so hopeful

Now watch the harvest

Become

Despite his careful tending

Wilting buds

And rotten plums

The flies take everything

Nothing goes to waste

But I was hoping, perhaps ideally

For just one more taste

Shrike

Hopes that I might not hang on that perilous steel,

The thorn

Borrowed from the fence row

He cleans the field

Death is all around us

In the grasses

Beneath the clouds

Hope that I might never go to waste

The long steel ropes

Across the field

Keeps my eyes to the ground

Quiet among the things that do not speak

Keep us close to the ground

And never make a sound

Keep us tight to the thorn

Waiting

Devoured by this oppressive summer day

Exhausted the breath

The embrace of a silver thorn

Hope that I might not be a casualty

That my life should mean something more…

Passionvine in Bloom

The passionvine entwines

The fence

Hope it reminds me

Why I’m here

The perilous stamens

The sweet mystique

A flower that barely blooms

But can not hide its fragrance

Hope that autumn is coming soon

Sleep silent in the ground

Roots remembering its beauty

Waiting for the next summer day

That it might once again

Be seen

That way

Cassia Alata

The candlestick plant

A light but no flame

Rise out of the ground

To fall again

When the ground is frozen

Leaving seeds

Just memories

To barter in the spring

So much work to grow these amazing spires

Rise and meet the heat of a summer day

No reluctance

For suffering

No penance beneath the stagnant air

No water

No special attention

Look next summer when there’s nothing left to save

Again

The seed will find its way

A candle in the darkness

A beautiful yellow light, 

its only flame

All words, photographs and paintings in this post- copyright by Art by Gordon  2015