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gaiamouse

art, writing, aikido and the universe

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sources of inspiration

Grace

Placid waves

wash warm

Over toes, knees,

belly to breasts.

Drink in sun.

Float

cotton-candy clouds

framing

rose,

lemon,

sapphire

sky.

DSC04746 3

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Mongolian Desert Sunrise

DSC04742
sun rises
slowly.
at first
sky’s merely a
lighter blue,
stars fade
as lemon and pale tangerine
glow on the horizon.
camels
softly call,
sounding
like
intermittent
distant motorcycles.
dark outlines change
to
pale peach-ochre land
studded with
quartz and granite and
chocolate rocky outcrops.
stunted and uneven
grass glows
viridian tipped
with silver-gold
seed kernels
and sheath.

6/27/17, revised 9/25/18

Valley of Mist

IMG_3753

Mist wafts,
gently kisses
the contoured banks
of Patapsco River.
Cloaks tree tops
after days
and weeks of rain
wrapped in beauty
that,
despite traffic,
licks the leaves
wet
with promise.

First Husband

What is there to say?

The last time

we met on the street

you showed surprise my hair

had turned gray,

although you were kind enough

to quickly hide  it.

 

Our greeting was too brief;

you were still angry,

I had so many regrets.

 

I was 24 years old,

a topless dancer on Walker Street.

I wanted to perform with Martha Graham.

Instead of telling you I was a student,

I told you my dream.

You tipped generously

and asked for a private dance.

I wore my red coat to your loft

and fell in bed

after you rubbed my back.

 

I remember tripping in

kaleidoscope colors of

sea and fish and coral rocks

as we made love

still wet from the Caribbean sea.

 

IMG_4186

 

 

 

Mongolia

The world is

a 360 degree mandala,

surrounded by mountains,

rivers cutting valleys,

Human pathways

and animal tracks

leading me

across this broad plain.

After the Storm, 6 A.M. East 7th Street

DSC00680 Pale silver sky
reflects on black iron.
Fire escape raindrops
slowly illuminate
this visceral world.
Birds’ babble,
laughter
rises with mist
from the street below.
I smile and
close my eyes
in calm satisfaction.

I lie still
between soft, worn
cotton sheets,
above spring verdant trees,
mahogany branches,
as lemon glimmers
among
sapphire clouds.
I know the secret
of tiny mosaics
and that
magical
pink metal
laundry box
in the bathroom.
The fire escape ladder,
is my tree house
framed by wet-dark branches
and cobalt curtains.
The rain-bejeweled
fire escape
will take me
directly
to heaven.

City to City

DSC04589I tightly hug

my sons goodbye.

Leave them

to their young men’s lives.

Drive away

after skies decant a

thunderstorm,

then burst into

peach and pale azure.

Journey and travel

and ride

through ebony night,

singing loudly

to stay awake.

Park in dawn harbor,

crimson and tangerine

ripple on dark water.

Gentle breeze,

moon slice

punctuated with

a single star,

dark side of the moon

outlined against

indigo sky.

And wrapped

in my husband’s arms

I dream

a gentle scent

of

sweet

spring rain.

 

June 20, 2017

 

Wyeth

White and white

essential light

 

Fog and forest

field and plow

 

Isolation

and family

 

Though privileged

he saw in poverty

his mirror image

 

black edges in.

Scan 2018-8-20 08.18.02Rise from Baltimore’s land, swinging south, the harbor lies cushioned by skyscrapers. Fluffy clouds in pale azure sky turning gold and rose. The moon a companion, rising directly next to my window, nearly full, cold pale light. Sail across land, the necklace of the Bay Bridge below and then..we are floating over ocean…there is nothing below us but clouds that we might drift down and straight down into the depths of the sea, inhabited by stage monsters, florescent and spiky or amorphous with a myriad of tentacles and we will sink and because I am with the magical pale Vikings we will drown but live forever frozen on the sea’s rocky floor.

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