Category: AI Art
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1508: The Colour of Elsewhere
The Colour of Elsewhere — Poems from the Periphery The Remains of Sweden — IV — 19 July: The Remains of Sweden she is long gone,rain washed her into soil,lifted her into sky. but much of her remains. the brittle snapof pine needles.the heavy latchon the iron gate. her bedroom window.the wrap-round porch. beyond the…
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1408: The Colour of Elsewhere
The Colour of Elsewhere — Poems from the Periphery Denmark — III — 12 July: Vejby Strand, Græsted the coffeehas gone cold. somewherebetween blackbirdand wren I forgoteverything. — 13 July: Perimeters my grandson walksthe garden’s edge, one sidegiven to the hedge. like a cat,that no backto the open. under his breath,stories battle. the earth warms.fumes…
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1308: The Colour of Elsewhere
The Colour of Elsewhere — Poems from the Periphery North — II — 10 July: Osnabrück to Bov, Denmark they flash their yellows,sunflowersin the hedgerows. a young forest,wind and branches,open,close,like a loose hinged door. smooth, he says with extra ooooos.it’s a Santana road, I say. our tyressweep cleanthe Autobahn. a favourite playlist.euphoriasets inat molecular level.…
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Ten Things of Thankful
This week: heatwave and heatwave, and still no rain. 38C on Thursday which is 100.4F. 1. Lots of birds are coming into the garden because of the heatwave (temp 38C /100.4F). Food and water are scarce. Blackberries have dried up on the vines, most rivers are nearly dry. The pond in the village is still…
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1208: The Colour of Elsewhere
The Colour of Elsewhere — Poems from the Periphery Leaving — I — 5 July: Periphery People thinkI still see the tree.I don’t — not like before. I see a crow arrive with its voice.Tyres tell me where the road is. Silence isn’t empty.It’s the placewhere the birdsused to be. The world arrivesin pieces. A…
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1108: The Colour of Elsewhere
The Colour of Elsewhere — Poems from the Periphery North Tomorrow I’m beginning something a little different here. Last month, on the road north to Denmark and Sweden and home again, I wrote what I saw from the periphery: roads, fields, people, weather, family, things overheard and things passed too quickly to understand. The poems…
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1108: Dead Men Don’t Drown
Dead Men Don’t Drown Episode #2 Three months ago this cottage still listened to my grandmother; now it belongs to me, though at times it feels like arriving halfway through a conversation she started with the walls some eighty years ago. I’ve learnt the house wakes early, long before I’ve slept enough, but I manage…
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1008: The Liturgy #2
Liturgy for the Inherited Weight(for those who must sort through the past) I. The Objects That Remember Every object in this house carries a memory,one we pressed into itwith our hands, our habits,our refusal to let go. The chipped mug she dropped at seven,her grandmother kept using,as if the crack were not a flawbut a…
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The Old Woman With No Cat
The Cat On Lavender(Or: A Feline Critique of Sanitary Accommodations) The Old Woman kneels in the evening light,gloved hands pressing soilinto a glorious blue-glazed pot,the scent of lavenderrising like a prayer. The cat sits beside her,tail curled neatly around his paws,observing the air,a discerning criticat a garden show. “So much better,” he says,“than the dusty…
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Ten Things of Thankful
I am thankful for a moment of quiet by myself on the patio, with a cup of coffee, listening to bird song, bees humming in the roses, and then … … noticing that I am being watched by a very curious grey squirrel. I love it when the morning comes together like this — easy…
It's Still Life 