about butterfly

about butterfly borders
contempt easter
first good garden

life living mine
photo pain peek
poem peace struggle

still travels time
unconscious trees
writer world write

writing your zeit

~

text: oil on copper zoom cloud 30.04.
photo: July 2006
dictionary peek: "zeit": german for "time"

cutback / backcut

cutback / backcut

a home can be
a rounded piece of wood
in a cut back tree

i undertand as i sit
with my teacher
in a garden

that dates back to the time
when gardens where cut in sizes
large enough

to provide food
for people, to give
shelter for birds,

to encompass
the circle
of life.

~~

Rückschnitt / Fortschritt

ein zurückgeschnitter Baum
kann Raum genug sein
für ein rundes Heim aus Holz

verstehe ich als ich dort sitze,
mit meiner Lehrerin
in einem Garten

der aus der Zeit stammt,
in der Gärtenstücke groß genug
geschnitten wurden

um Nahrung anzubauen,
um Unterschlupf zu finden

um den Kreis des Lebens
zu umschließen.

~~

photo: 11. April
poem: 12 /30

imprints 2

imprints 2

under the canopy
named oldest
a post of past April
forgotten yet stored
at the bottom of the blog

this house, the garden,
the street,
all covered in snow,
like dreaming
a winter dream

the only signs
someone was awake:
footprints in the snow,
leading to the door,
returning to wilderness.

not shoe prints,
but doe prints.

~

photo: April 2006, 10/30 or 1/3
poem: based on lines in a draft stored 03.04.06.
dictionary peek: canopy - a covering for an eminent person or a sacred object; an ornamental rooflike projection over a niche, altar, or tomb; a protective rooflike covering, often of canvas, mounted on a frame over a walkway or door; a high overarching covering, such as the sky; the uppermost layer in a forest, formed by the crowns of the trees; the transparent enclosure over the cockpit of an aircraft; the part of a parachute that opens up to catch the air.

swim

shallow water deep
like lost time like illusions
learn to breathe then swim

~~

automatic alternative

gaudy petal blazes
agelessly, agelessly
jackals play, does rush

~~

photo: in the middle of the city
poem: 9/30
automatic haikus: here

wordsouls

wordsouls

the book was sorted under c like cardenal
and had a mayan bird on its cover,
painted in coloured crayons

it dived into the metaphysics of language
right on its first page: the latin word carmen (song)
is derived from the sanskrit karma (holy ritual), it stated,

in a sentence so casual, so exciting. karma song,
i thought, my eyes lingering on a bird in the tree
who kept chanting, who speaks in notes, in verse

all his life.

~

photo: 25.3. - the return of the Rotschwanz, a migrating bird who prefers to spend the winter in Italy.
poem: sunday morning, 8/30
peek: wordsouls - "Wortseelen" is the name of the book mentioned: a collection of ethnic poems collected by Ernesto Cardenal, i came across it in the library.

east / west

east / west

for her, the sun rises
beyond the tree hill
23 minutes later

than forecasted on the weather page
which seems to be based on a flat world
of no memory

yesterday gone already
the moment the hands of time
reach midnight,

while the easter rabbit and his chickens
are born in shelves of super markets
that forgot about the real meaning

of things
and times

~~

photo: easter 1 year ago
poem: 7/30

imprinted bluegreen

imprinted bluegreen

in yards, evolution /
happens every hour...

(submitted)

~~

photo: 02.04., back yard
poem: based on a line on sculputers in a mail
dictionary peek: imprint - verb: to produce (a mark or pattern) on a surface by pressure: to impart a strong or vivid impression, to fix firmly, as in the mind; to modify (a gene) by chemical means. noun: a mark or pattern produced by imprinting; a distinguishing influence or effect; a publisher's name, often with the date, address, and edition.

Die Zeit Nr. 14

Die Zeit Nr. 14

on the cover of
the newspaper named
like the time

eine Zeit

the world from far
distance beyond
a particle born in space

eine Welt

and we here, giving
numbers to issues to days
fourteen five four this one

ein Jetzt

when will
our time
come?

~

photo: 02.04.07
poem: written at 11.23 GWM (Greenwich Mean Time, which isn't mean, but median), 5/30
dictionary peek: eine Zeit - a time, eine Welt - a world, ein Jetzt - a now

receding still

receding still

illusions drain light
within the mirror of self
sounds receding still

~

photo: good question. maybe last November, on the way to Lanzarote?
poem: draft since 13.2., based on an automatic haiku, redrafted today
dictionary peek: receding - to move back or away from a limit, point, or mark; to slope backward; to become or seem to become fainter or more distant; to withdraw or retreat.

learn the rules, so you know how to break them

learn the rules, so you know how to break them

birds marking invisible borders with songlines...

(submitted)

~

photo: 11. April 2006, exhibition "Square"
poem: 2nd of April, full moon
dictionary peek: contempt - the feeling or attitude of regarding someone or something as inferior, base, or worthless; the state of being despised or dishonored; disgrace; willful disobedience of the authority of a court of law or legislative body.

NaPoWriMo

It's April. And thus, NaPoWriMo. National Poetry Writing Month.
"Write a poem, every day, this month," the poems page said.
"Hmmm...," i said. "A poem? Would haikus, do, too? And sketches?"
"Write a poem a day, whatever that means to you," the page said, and added: "there really are no rules."
"So then," i answered.

invisible island

• san francisco :: windy
• sadness :: lonely
• spirits :: invisible
• harriet :: marriot
• state :: of consciousness
• offense :: defense
• timeless :: island
• account :: numbers
• refuse :: say no

- unconscious mutterings, week 215

Er-Leben

yoga classes are back again. starting with a calming and slow lesson. with more explanations, as there are some new ones in the group, as some had to leave as they moved to another place. and it was good, to hear the basics again. on the blackboard, two lines that can’t really be translated:

alles Leben ist Bewegung
alles (Er)Leben ist Stille

all life is motion
all experience is silence

and interesting link: life is Leben. and to experience life is to Erleben. plus Leben when written without capital L is the verb: to live. leben.

the energy of life. parallel to yoga, it also rose in the pots where i planted the sunflower seeds last week. now they are growing on the window sill, and shedding their seed-shells. i took a photo, and a close-up which turned out zen-like.

alone

he just came from meeting miro and erro in the Esbaluard. walked out of the door, and saw her. sitting there. in the perfect spot to be with the world around. in the perfect spot to be alone. he played with the idea of walking up to her and saying something original and witty. then he thought twice, climbed on the stones in front of him and sat down to be alone, too.

it was only after she had left that he realized that it had been a while since he felt so connected in such a fragile way.

- photo friday, challenge: "alone"

posi-tea-vity

• lipton :: tea
• reason :: without
• terms :: of acceptance
• positive :: vity
• example :: for
• legacy :: extacy
• solo :: clarinette
• instrument :: tool
• later :: today

- Unconscious Mutterings, week 212

every living thing

sunday and it's rain. i stand in front of the terrace door, looking out to the garden, this garden of february, this garden of trees without leafs and flowers hibernating yet. but the first messengers of life are there already: a first flower opening. a first bee. a first butterfly.

the butterfly, it takes me back to last summer, to this photo i took there. it's the same, i think. the same butterfly. or rather: the same kind of butterfly. butterflies don't fly through winter. they fade when the frost comes, leaving only their memory, and some little butterfly eggs.

the search of the butterfly photo takes me to another page, one with a quote about struggle. i wanted to copy it right away, then forgot. all i remember is that it's from Rilke. and starts with "every little thing." i type the words into google. like magic, a second later, the quote appears, in an extended version, what that moves on from struggle to aloneness, the theme of this month's philosophy cafe.

"People have, with the help of so many conventions, resolved everything the easy way, on the easiest side of easy. But it is clear that we must embrace struggle. Every living thing conforms to it. Everything in nature grows and struggles in its own way, establishing its own identity, insisting on it at all cost, against all resistance. We can be sure of very little, but the need to court struggle is a surety that will not leave us. It is good to be lonely, for being alone is not easy. The fact that something is difficult must be one more reason to do it."
- from Letters to a Young Poet

thank you, butterfly.

so little, so powerful

it's spring days here in the south of germany. it doesn't feel real, and maybe there will be winter coming back, but right now it's lovely. the flowers in the garden open, one after another, and they gave me the idea to start a flower diary.

here is the diary page: in the garden of colour. and here, an extra page for the latest entry, contributed by a little magic crocus, growing out of the green, unplanted, unexpected: so little, so powerful.

more to come. the narcisses are already building bulbs, just like the hyazinths.

- photo friday, challenge: "textured"

cross the invisible line

• threshold :: invisible
• suspicion :: dark
• tender :: touch
• tempted :: cross the line
• repulsive :: retro
• bulldog :: catfish
• garage :: door
• racket :: ball

- unconscious muttering, week 211

all-eins

alone, all one. it's the same in German. allein. all-eins. i never noticed this. then came yesterday, and with it, a philosophical cafe. which also made me look and find these lines about being alone. an invitation. in thought.

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for,
and if you dare to meet your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool
for love, for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon.
I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow;
if you have been opened by life's betrayals,
or have become shrivelled and closed for fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own,
without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own:
if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you
to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic,
or to remember the limitations of being human.

I want to know if you can be faithful and therefore be trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see beauty even when it is not pretty every day,
and if you can source your life from its presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine,
and still stand on the edge of a lake and shout to the silver of the moon, "YES!"

It doesn't interest me to know where you live
or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair,
weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done.

It doesn't interest me who you are, how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
at the centre of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself,
and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

- Oriah Mountain Dreamer, from the book The Invitation

orange

sky is motion
towards a horizon
towards a new day
to take shape

orange is so much more
than a word
than a fruit
to slice in pieces

- photo friday, challenge: "sky"