Roswila's Dream & Poetry Realm

Dreamku/Tanka/Monoku with Digital Photos/Art; Other Poetry; more...

~ * "Wisdom begins in wonder." Socrates ~ *

SEE ALSO: ROSWILA'S TAROT GALLERY & JOURNAL (with The Found Tarot) and ROSWILA'S TAIGA TAROT (deck-in-progress) and TRYING TO HOLD A BOX OF LIGHT (Roswila's photos, from realism to abstract)

Sunday, December 30, 2007

HAIGA in Response to One Deep Breath's Prompt of 12/30/07

the lightly frosted window/your beaming face


This week's prompt at One Deep Breath is "frost." The haiku above is based on a memory, one of the many precious ones I will take with me when I move cross country to California in one month. A dear friend had gone out on my terrace to smoke, then tapped on the window and grinned back in at me.

You can get a pleasurable chill from others' responses to this prompt by clicking on the link to One Deep Breath above and following the links in each comment. (The image is from newfreedownloads.com.)

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‘til next time, keep dreaming,

Roswila

[aka: Patricia Kelly]

****If you wish to copy or use any of my writing or poems, please email me for permission (under “View my complete profile”)****My other blogs ROSWILA’S TAROT GALLERY & JOURNAL and ROSWILA’S TAIGA TAROT.

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Wednesday, December 26, 2007

"SCIFAIGA": Response to One Deep Breath Prompt of 12/24/07

[baby shower gift/a new universe/spins above the crib]


The above is a scifaiku (haiku-like science fiction/fantasy form), so might be better termed a scifaiga, than haiga. :-) The photo is of the Cat's Eye Nebula, by the way.

May we all find the wonders of a new universe spinning in each new day. Happy Holidays!

To enjoy the other gifts prompted this week, visit One Deep Breath.

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'til next time, keep dreaming,

Roswila

[aka: Patricia Kelly]

****If you wish to copy or use any of my writing or poems, please email me for permission (under “View my complete profile”)****My other blogs ROSWILA’S TAROT GALLERY & JOURNAL and ROSWILA’S TAIGA TAROT.

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Tuesday, December 25, 2007

MY FAVORITE WORD: Hypaethral



Maybe a week ago I was reading a magazine or newspaper and came across a mention of the site My Favorite Word, at which you can post a favorite word with your thoughts about it, and others can respond with their comments. "Cool," I thought as I visited, bookmarked it, and thought nothing further of the site. Then a couple days later this happened:

"I stumbled across the word hypaethral in a book by Mircea Eliade that I was reading at least 30 years ago. I loved the sound and look of it back then, but hadn't the vaguest idea what it meant, even after wrestling with the context which often yields a sense of a word strange to me. I looked it up, penciled the meaning in the margin, and promptly forgot about it until a couple days ago when culling old books preparing to move cross country. 'Hypaethral' I mused. What a lovely word, how could I have forgotten its sound and sight, much less its meaning: open to the sky; having a roofless central space. Yes, my favorite word even though I forgot about it all these years. To be open to the sky ...." [slightly edited version of my subsequent post to the My Favorite Word web site]

On making this post today it hits me that where I am moving in a month (cross country to outside Santa Barbara in California, in a senior residence) has a central space open to the sky -- i.e. a lawn rimmed with gardens and trees.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

[Image above from webshots.com.]


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‘til next time, keep dreaming,

Roswila

[aka: Patricia Kelly]

****If you wish to copy or use any of my writing or poems, please email me for permission (under “View my complete profile”)****My other blogs ROSWILA’S TAROT GALLERY & JOURNAL and ROSWILA’S TAIGA TAROT.

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Friday, December 21, 2007

BITTER HERB, poem by Erica Jong




BITTER HERB
by Erica Jong

If you would poison your mind
with the bitter herb of self-hate,
nothing can save you:
not the lover who comes in the night
smelling of pitch & brimstone,
not the husband who comes in the light
smelling of hay & the golden turds of mares,
not the mother with her poisoned apple,
not the daughter with her wreaths of roses & opium poppies,
not the sister with her rosemary & rue
nor the brother with the mandrake root.

Having driven out the demons of the past
we find them now within.
No witches burn in the market
but our minds revolve upon their own spits;
no crucifixion upon Calvary
but a daily torture in the hills of the skull,
no smell of burning female flesh upon the heath,
but the acrid odor of the heart slowly smoldering.

What witchcraft will it take
to bend this world to our will?
Must we burn poisonous herbs
to kill the poisons in the streams?
Must we wear poultices of Henbane
& Deadly Nightshade
against the very air?

O take this garlic rosary,
this token of death’s breath,
this possessed vegetable,
this bulb of dried desire.
I am sick of haunting myself
from within
like an old house.
I would be happier
as a hunted witch.


* * * *

With all the people contact my preparing to move to California in about month is requiring of me I've been dealing with lots of craziness. A lot of it my own emotional mess but a lot being generated by others, as well. And I've been somewhat surprised to recognize how much of not only mine but others emotional "stuff" tends to rise out of a habit of self-dislike, even at times self-hate and certainly unreasonable self-blame. I know many of the people I'm in contact with rather well which is why I can make that observation about them with a certain degree of confidence. In any case, the above poem has been brought to mind, over and over recently. And I reiterate those last lines with respect to myself: "I am sick of haunting myself/from within/like an old house ..." It is time to move on, both figuratively and literally!

BTW, the sketch above is one I did in 1978 at a conference/camp center in the New Hampshire woods, where I was teaching a poetry workshop. I've always thought of it as "the witchy tree."

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‘til next time, keep dreaming,

Roswila

[aka: Patricia Kelly]

****If you wish to copy or use any of my writing or poems, please email me for permission (under “View my complete profile”)****My other blogs ROSWILA’S TAROT GALLERY & JOURNAL and ROSWILA’S TAIGA TAROT.

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Monday, December 10, 2007

OF STAR TREK, ROBOTS & BUTTS (dreamku humor)

The Starship Enterprise, of the Star Trek T.V. show


I've so had it with all the fuss and bother involved in getting ready for my move to California the first week in February that I could plotz. So thought it was time for some silliness. Here's a few old dreamku of mine that might fit that bill. (For anyone not "in the know," William Shatner played Captain Kirk in Classic Star Trek.)

OF STAR TREK, ROBOTS, AND BUTTS


William Shatner
has had a sex change
she runs the show

* * * *

the star ship crew
piles up in an orgy
Captain Kirk’s grin

* * * *

the robot
does the laundry...
I wish!

* * * *

whose butt is bigger
I both fear and want to win
this contest


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‘til next time, keep dreaming,

Roswila

[aka: Patricia Kelly]

****If you wish to copy or use any of my writing or poems, please email me for permission (under “View my complete profile”)****My other blogs ROSWILA’S TAROT GALLERY & JOURNAL and ROSWILA’S TAIGA TAROT.

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Friday, December 07, 2007

ANOTHER GORGEOUS GANESH



This card arrived from one of the friends who'll be only a short train trip from where I'll be living in California. Isn't He wonderful? (You can't tell from this scan, but the picture is a glossy photo, which adds to its depth.) I highly recommend visiting the artist's site, Goddess Silks.

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‘til next time, keep dreaming,

Roswila

[aka: Patricia Kelly]

****If you wish to copy or use any of my writing or poems, please email me for permission (under “View my complete profile”)****My other blogs ROSWILA’S TAROT GALLERY & JOURNAL and ROSWILA’S TAIGA TAROT.

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Monday, December 03, 2007

KINDNESS by Naomi Shihab Nye


KINDNESS

by Naomi Shihab Nye


Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
What you held in your hand,
what you counted and carefully saved,
all this must go so you know
how desolate the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.
How you ride and ride
thinking the bus will never stop,
the passengers eating maize and chicken
will stare out the window forever.

Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness,
you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho
lies dead by the side of the road.
You must see how this could be you,
how he too was someone
who journeyed through the night with plans
and the simple breath that kept him alive.

Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.

Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day to mail letters and
purchase bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
it is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you every where
like a shadow or a friend.

* * * *

The above image is of Ganesh, and it says "Wellspring of Kindness" at the bottom. After posting the above poem with this image it occurred to me that Ganesh lost his human head, and Ganesh is one of the kindest of Deities. I'd not consciously seen this story of how Ganesh got his elephant head as a story of how kindness can become our fellow traveler until this posting.

‘til next time, keep dreaming,

Roswila

[aka: Patricia Kelly]

****If you wish to copy or use any of my writing or poems, please email me for permission (under “View my complete profile”)****My other blogs ROSWILA’S TAROT GALLERY & JOURNAL and ROSWILA’S TAIGA TAROT.