I’ve read Martin Shaw’s book Scatterlings a couple of times now and I keep finding hoards of riches. Here’s a good introduction to it, filmed by Ian MacKenzie:
Category Archives: poetry
Sun Motions
This is a cool tool. Put yourself on the north pole, or at, say, 74.8 degrees N latitude. Is this nature study? I’ve rediscovered Tim Morton’s books on ecology, among them Ecology without Nature and The Ecological Thought, where he introduces the concept of dark ecology as a means of expressing the “irony, ugliness, and …
Some Music
(I realize I am soon becoming the Queen of Grief, but you can always read the “Molting Chicken” entry after this one and restore some balance.) Last Sunday Amie played in her Orchestra concert. This concert featured four Rivers Youth Orchestras, from Preparatory (that Amie is in) to Symphony. It’s absolutely riveting to follow the …
Clarity, in Pieces (ii)
The Thirteenth Moon Even if you have lost heart She puts a tide in you Even if you have lost heart You will be moved You will be all lined up The soil has tides Bedrock has tides The horizon heaves She will drag even you “That turns out to be a place where it’s …
Evolving Upheaval Poem
This poem is evolving as I try to explain my growing insight into what hope is and what my role is in this world. I started it here. Do you dare to test the endurance of your hope To take it to that far place where still it refuses to leave or maybe not. Where, …
Upheaval Poems
There has been a major change in my thinking/feeling about our culture, our future, and my role. An upheaval big enough for me to burn some bridges (to set fire to them, at least), to shed some tears. Well. Good things are happening too as a result of it, I hasten to add. Clarity is …
Poem by a Friend
My friend Janine, fellow Transition worker and fellow blogger, has written a gripping poem. It haunts till the end. This is the beginning:                      I dreamt a sword fight broke out in the cornfield   …
350 Poems – Still Poem 4
Change of plans! This poem will not be our friend’s birthday poem after all. So it is going out to someone else, with the following ink and water color painting by Pinka Das, from Kolkata, India. The inkling Some things just must be said Some things just say themselves If only for a mouth I just need to …
Burning House
Now I can’t stop blogging! I just wanted share this, from Jim Harrison’s North American Image Cycle: The boy stood in the burning house. Set it up that way, and with all windows open. I don’t want a roof. I want to fill all those spaces where we never allow words to occur. That’s what …
Wild is Old (Owls) Redux
I am writing another poem for my 350 poems project. At this rate I’ll be 90 years old by the time we get 350 poems together. That won’t be too bad, really.