“Tell all the truth but tell it slant — –Emily Dickinson
“There’s a certain Slant of light, . . .
When it comes, the Landscape listens – Shadows – hold their breath –“ –Emily Dickinson
Slanted words in slanted light, this is what autumn brings– ghosts and trees whisper, elongated shadows seem alive.
This is what autumn brings– red and yellow dazzle, elongated shadows seem alive, eagles with piping whistles fly—
above red and yellow dazzle, berry-warm against cool grey and blue eagles with piping whistles fly, wine glows in canted rays of the sun
berry-warm against cool grey and blue circles woven of color and time wine glows in canted rays of the sun, stories told and understood–
circles woven of color and time now amid the age-old lies, stories told and understood for those who wait, a battle cry
now amid the age-old lies truth is bent and rearranged for those who wait, a battle cry, but nature marches to a different beat–
truth is bent and rearranged, elongated shadows seem alive, but nature marches to a different beat– slanted words in slanted light.
I’m sharing this pantoum I wrote for my Monday Morning Musings two weeks ago with dVerse Open Link Night. You can see the original version with photos here.
When it comes, the Landscape listens – Shadows – hold their breath –“ —Emily Dickinson,
Slanted words in slanted light, this is what autumn brings– ghosts and trees whisper, elongated shadows seem alive.
This is what autumn brings– red and yellow dazzle, elongated shadows seem alive, eagles with high-pitched whistles fly—
above red and yellow dazzle, berry-warm against cool grey and blue eagles with high-pitched whistles fly, wine glows as canted rays shine through
berry-warm against cool grey and blue circles woven of color and time wine glows as canted rays shine through stories told and understood–
circles woven of color and time now amid the age-old lies, stories told and understood for those who wait, a battle cry
now amid the age-old lies truth is bent and rearranged for those who wait, a battle cry, but nature marches to a different beat
The Wild Turkey Gang
truth is bent and rearranged elongated shadows seem alive but nature marches to a different beat– slanted words in slanted light.
A pantoum for today. I used some of Jane’s random words, as well as playing off Emily Dickinson. October has been a mostly beautiful month this year—some grey days and rain, but beautiful color, even as the days are growing shorter. And that eagle!
We took care of some things this weekend, such as flu shots and new COVID booster and haircuts. No ill effects from the vaccines, except I was a little tired Friday night and Saturday. We also voted in NJ’s early voting. I’m dismayed and angered that so many still support the GOP, which has become the Tr—p Party of Christo-fascists, and people egging them on, and also some who somehow still believe their lives will improve–despite decades of proof that trickle-down economic policies only make the rich richer. The GOP wants to eliminate Social Security and Medicare—how will that help most people, and what will happen to the people who depend on them? The attack on Nancy Pelosi’s husband, which was meant to be her assassination, and the rise in antisemitic rhetoric indicates what this party stands for–in case the dismissal of women’s rights and attacks on LGBTQ+ weren’t enough, and oh yes, the attempts to destroy democracy weren’t enough! We cannot agree to disagree on these things.
Horror viewing this week because nothing is as scary as the real world. The Midnight Club on Netflix this week, which we enjoyed. It’s based on a YA novel. There are a few “gotcha jumps,” but it’s not super-scary. But it’s both sad (set in a hospice for teens with cancer) and hopeful with some fun 1990’s references, too. The Innocents (1961), the beautifully photographed movie based on The Turn of the Screw with Deborah Kerr as the governess. A classic ghost story. No blood and gore, just spookiness. I had forgotten the ending though, which is creepy on another level, too.
We went to William Heritage Winery to enjoy the beautiful afternoon yesterday.
One step forward, round and round, the labyrinth circles. Go? Or stay in the in-between? Are answers found when past finds future? Which is the way?
The labyrinth circles—go or stay? I’m a shadow figure lost in blues, when past finds future. Which is the way? Where should I go? Where are the clues?
I’m a shadow figure lost in blues, within my mind-forest, I search in dreams– where should I go? Where are the clues– nothing here is as it seems—
in the in-between. Are answers found within my mind-forest? I search in dreams– but nothing here is as it seems– just one step forward, round and round.
I’ve revised this pantoum originally written in April for Paul Brooke’s Ekphrastic Challenge inspired by the above artwork by Kerfe Roig and Jane Cornwell. I’m linking this post to dVerse Open Link Night. Live today!
We search for a glimmer to put us at ease, we watch for a beacon, bright in the sky. We seek a light, a sign in storm-roiled seas, and for a little while, we don’t ask why
we watch for a beacon, bright in sky, augur portending, a hero or hope, for a little while, we don’t ask why the weary one’s an age-old trope,
augur portending, hero or hope, each warrior, once a baby born– the weary one’s an age-old trope, wanted, revered, then mocked and scorned.
Each warrior, once a baby born to her or him, words said and not, wanted, revered, then mocked and scorned– lessons learned and lessons taught.
To her or him, words said and not– live well, and love, and take good care— lessons learned and lessons taught, faint or bright, a beacon glows everywhere.
Live well, and love, and take good care, we seek a light, a sign in storm-roiled seas– faint or bright, a beacon glows. Everywhere, we search for a glimmer to put us at ease.
A pantoum for Day 26 of Paul Brookes’ Ekphrastic Challenge. My poem didn’t make it into his post, but you can read the others here.
Burning bright, each season’s swift turning, she comes named and nameless, always here assuaging aches and calming yearning, giver of life and light—see her,
she comes named and nameless, always here reaching the apples, making fungi sprout, giver of life and light, in darkness, see her circling–a serpent, in and out
reddening the apples, making fungi sprout, not angel nor demon, she is desire circling. A serpent in and out, beyond time–she’s earth, air, and fire–
not angel nor demon, she is desire, assuaging aches and calming yearning. Beyond time, she’s earth, air, and fire- burning. Bright, each season’s swift turning.
A pantoum for Paul Brooke’s Ekphrastic Challenge, Day 19. My poem didn’t make it into the post, but you can read the rest of them here.
One step forward, round and round, the labyrinth circles—go or stay? In the in-between, are answers found? Past finds future. What is the way?
The labyrinth circles—go or stay? She’s a shadow figure lost in blues, Past finds future. What is the way? Where are the clues?
She’s a shadow figure lost in blues in her mind-forests, she searches dreams– where are the clues? Nothing here is as it seems,
in the in-between. Are answers found in her mind-forests? She searches dreams– but nothing here is as it seems– just one step forward, round and round.
For Paul Brookes’ Ekphrastic Challenge. I decided to change it up a bit, so I wrote a pantoum this time to reflect the circles of Kerfe’s work. I revised it a bit from the one posted on Paul’s site–but these are all rough drafts. I couldn’t quite work in John Law’s work for this one. You can see all the art and read all the poems here.
This is for Peter’s prompt on dVerse. He’s asked us to think about sound. Kerfe had me thinking of pantoums, and so I revised one that I wrote in April.
these notes trilled and warbled now under the moon.
I watched the flash of white on wing
in my dreams. But still I heard his tune
at dawn. Still, I heard the mockingbird sing.
I haven’t written a pantoum in a while, so I just decided to write one. It seemed like a good way to procrastinate. 😉 This is for Open Link Night tonight at dVerse, where Grace is hosting.
in my dream world. . . here, the blue horses graze.
Mish has asked us to use the work of artist Beverly Dyer for our poem dVerse Poetics. How could I resist blue horses? This is a pantoum. . .because I haven’t written one in a while, so why not?
Yesterday and today: Merril's historical musings 