Roswila's Dream & Poetry Realm

SEE ALSO: TRYING TO HOLD A BOX OF LIGHT (photos, realistic to abstract)

Saturday, June 28, 2014

WITH OPEN ARMS (photo art) & JOURNEY (non-dream free verse poem) by Roswila


I have deserted my branches
for the roots: a twin to shadows
to the underside of things


Room number five overlooks
the swaying marina
and has two doors:
one through which to come and go,
the other a locked
and barred fire door.


Even in loneliness I am not alone.
something trips on pebbles
in my wake, stirs dust
like small clouds of incense,
startles me with three-toed
footprints in deserted places.


Roses are said to bloom
in The Hollow even in December.
I fear its lush summer beauty,
its cup of forgetfulness.


At the spit of the island
I stand between two pounding tides,
nailed to an impossibly narrow
shelf of life by past and future.


Through a huge wound of distance
the sea appears calm.
Up close, great fists of water
fling rocks and broken shells
at my feet like jewels.


I follow a sea bird with a broken
wing that drags in the sand.
It flaps wildly into the water
from a belly take-off.
Then sails serenely along
in its element,
useless wing tucked neatly.


A light rain sketches
tentative circles on the surface
of a lily pond
and taps at the yellow
of my slicker.


Fog strings invisible spider webs
with lights. Pine needles dangle,
each with a perfect iridescent
globe at its tip. I lean closer,
hand out. The globes shed swiftly
and disappear into my palm.


A half dozen cows kneel together
in a field that rises
slowly into green.


I fling onto my back
in a patch of sunlight.
I am a five pointed star
within the wheel of the world,
an Ace of Pentacles,
a Wheel of Fortune.
For a space sharper than a blade
of grass, the sun burns
at the bidding of my belly.

* * * *

[non-dream poem written in 1985 from notes made on the first of what were to be many trips to Block Island, Rhode Island. I had lots of fantasies in those years of retiring to a place like B.I. And as I mentioned here at some time, I'm sure, moving to south central California in 2008 came extremely close to fulfilling those fantasies. (With the advantage of no isolating winter storms. Of course, then there's wild fires, droughts, and earth quakes. ) I posted "Journey" here in 2006 so think it can bear the repeat. I'd been thinking a lot of B.I. and realizing it's not so much a place that grabs our yearning, but how we felt when we were there. And that led to wondering if I'd ever feel the way I felt on this first B.I. journey, and during my first months here in CA, ever again. Yeah, a bit of self pity there, but that's the truth of it and it will pass. Photo art "With Open Arms" (BI pic folder) by Roswila, from a very old small faded scanned in pic of mine. That figure was a temporary art sculpture at sea's edge on Block Island. I snapped the pic on my first trip and for some reason I never brought a camera along again, only fully taking to photography on moving to CA in 2008.]

PLEASE NOTE: in most browsers you can click on the above image for a larger version. Also, the photo accompanying a post is not necessarily meant to illustrate it, but to reflect some small, even slant aspect of the verse, similar to Japanese haiga (illustrated haiku).

There are many other sorts of posts on this blog. I indicate which are about or influenced by dreams. Some non dream focused posts are book reviews, "regular" poems (some by other writers, as the above is), scifaiku, writing exercises, Tarot haiku, photos, haiga, and so on. However, most of those are in much older posts. There's a listing by month going back to early 2006, at the end of the sidebar.

* * * *
until next time, keep dreaming,

[a/k/a 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”). Roswila's connections & other blogs: Charter Member of the United Haiku and Tanka Society (UHTS); ROSWILA'S TAROT GALLERY & JOURNAL; ROSWILA'S TAIGA TAROT; and TRYING TO HOLD A BOX OF LIGHT.


At 1:31 PM , Anonymous amanda said...

A half dozen cows kneel together
in a field that rises
slowly into green

What a powerful image!!!!

I saw the cows glowing, rising, spinning, disappearing in prayer..into the Night!

Beautiful poems and images - thank you Roswila

At 8:53 AM , Blogger Roswila said...

Thanks for "dropping by," Amanda. Your recent blog about silence, and subsequent comments to it, really got into my dreams last night. I'll probably email you about it but just in case this old lady forgets to, the prose poem is going up today (7-3-14) if you'd like to read it. It's my personal take on a certain sort of silence.


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