Blogalicious: Online Journals I Admire
Here's a great list of online journals to submit to, compiled by Diane Lockward. Check out her blog, Blogalicious, too, while you're there.
Tiny White Flowers
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Another Reason Why I'm Always Late
My neighbor's tree. I check its progress daily, and it's now just about naked. I wonder what it would be like to be so vulnerable for half the year. . .
So here's the deal -
In order for me to change the new title of this blog to "Portrait of a Poet," I've got to write more regularly. At least, that's how I see it. And as I'm in front of a computer screen often, what better way to transfer my energies from unimportant tasks than to take a few moments to toss a few words in this direction. Right?
So friends, if you find that I don't visit at least twice a week, feel free to remind me gently that I'm not holding up my bit of the bargain. I'll be happy to do the same for you. Just let me know.
Much love, and a blueberry~
Wednesday Poem
From AGNI online:
http://www.bu.edu/agni/poetry/online/2008/beasley1.html
Love Poem for Wednesday
by Sandra Beasley
You’re the day after Tuesday, before eternity.
You’re the day we ran out of tomatoes
and used tiny packets of ketchup instead.
You are salt, no salt, too much salt, a hangover.
You hold the breath of an abandoned cave.
Sometimes you surprise me with your
aurora borealis and I’ll pull over to watch you;
I’ll wait in the dark shivering fields of you.
But mostly, not. My students don’t care for you
or your lessons from the life of a minor god.
Can you hit the high C in our anthem?
Can you bench press a national disaster?
I fear for you, Wednesday. Your papers
are never in order. Your boots track in mud.
You’re the day I realized I didn’t even like him,
and the day I still said yes, yes, yes.
Sometimes I think you and I should elope,
and leave this house of cards to shuffle itself.
You are love, no love, too much love, a cuckold.
You are the loneliest of the three bears, hoping
to come home and find someone in your bed.
Crazy Hair Woman Resurfaces After Too Much Time in the Kitchen
"Red Maple and Stone Wall - Acer Rubrum"
* * *
This morning, at 6:50 am, I turned off the alarm. My good intentions of getting to bed early so as to wake up fresh aren't working. Something (PBS's Latin Music USA, a sink full of dirty dishes, a good book of poetry) always seems to lure me into the depths of the eleven-o'clock hour, and the next thing I know, it's morning.
A rainy morning, not too dark, and still full of color. I know the winds are coming and the trees won't be able to hold on to their true colors for very much longer.
Which is probably a good thing.
It seems that now it's all I can do to stay on the road properly when I'm driving. Savage Plants, a nursery near our home, has the most amazing row of trees that glow crimson in any weather, and I'm not altogether sure why more accidents don't occur on our road this time of year. The reader board for Savage reads : "They are Fairview Flame Maples, and yes, we have them." I tell you, a row of these will pretty much knock your socks off.
So, I'm the deer in the headlights these days, the love-crazed possum crossing the road, the crazy hair woman who's realized she's left the house without checking her tresses before going public, one hand on the steering wheel and aiming a camera out a rain-soaked window on the way back from school. . .
It's time to write a poem.
* * *
This morning, at 6:50 am, I turned off the alarm. My good intentions of getting to bed early so as to wake up fresh aren't working. Something (PBS's Latin Music USA, a sink full of dirty dishes, a good book of poetry) always seems to lure me into the depths of the eleven-o'clock hour, and the next thing I know, it's morning.
A rainy morning, not too dark, and still full of color. I know the winds are coming and the trees won't be able to hold on to their true colors for very much longer.
Which is probably a good thing.
It seems that now it's all I can do to stay on the road properly when I'm driving. Savage Plants, a nursery near our home, has the most amazing row of trees that glow crimson in any weather, and I'm not altogether sure why more accidents don't occur on our road this time of year. The reader board for Savage reads : "They are Fairview Flame Maples, and yes, we have them." I tell you, a row of these will pretty much knock your socks off.
So, I'm the deer in the headlights these days, the love-crazed possum crossing the road, the crazy hair woman who's realized she's left the house without checking her tresses before going public, one hand on the steering wheel and aiming a camera out a rain-soaked window on the way back from school. . .
It's time to write a poem.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Lilac, Opening, 2
Another one from my garden. I love my camera, though, when I grow up, I will be in the market for another SLR. This time a digital.
At the University, years ago, I took photography, and never went anywhere without my Leica M5 or my Nikon FE2. I gave up taking photos for a few years, and have recently become interested again. It's a good balance for when I'm not writing.
At the University, years ago, I took photography, and never went anywhere without my Leica M5 or my Nikon FE2. I gave up taking photos for a few years, and have recently become interested again. It's a good balance for when I'm not writing.
Friday, May 22, 2009
Plum Blossom, Close-up
Our Italian Prune tree came to us from it's parent tree, which lived in my grandparent's back yard. I spent a lot of time in that yard, in the tree, riding my "horse" and eating plums.
Rhubarb Leaf, detail
This time of year I find the light to be so magical. Often the subjects of my photos seem to glow with it, and because of it I keep taking photo after photo.
I found a small frog the other day, and I followed it to the rhubarb plant, where i became enchanted with light and detail.
I found a small frog the other day, and I followed it to the rhubarb plant, where i became enchanted with light and detail.
The Days Are Getting Nicer
I just got in from mowing - our 1/2 ac. front lawn, and the neighbor's acre. People always ask me if I have a riding mower. No, but DH has a little push mower with the rotating blades, I tell them.
I feel good after all that mowing, even though the scotch broom is in full fire, and other such plants and trees are letting off a little pollen. It was a good week at the gym, too, so this 2 1/2 hours is a nice addition. It is also meditative - all that back and forth stuff - and but made interesting by the fact that there are many little bumps, good sized slopes, quite a few rocks, dinosaurish blackberry vines, and plentiful nettles, just to name a few.
Here is another tulip, again a gift from my aunt.
I feel good after all that mowing, even though the scotch broom is in full fire, and other such plants and trees are letting off a little pollen. It was a good week at the gym, too, so this 2 1/2 hours is a nice addition. It is also meditative - all that back and forth stuff - and but made interesting by the fact that there are many little bumps, good sized slopes, quite a few rocks, dinosaurish blackberry vines, and plentiful nettles, just to name a few.
Here is another tulip, again a gift from my aunt.
The Inner Tulip
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