Brassai And His Conversation With A Gargoyle, 1932

Source: Davetname

Drowning

Do not mind the tide pushing in and pulling out

Or the waves falling and rising

In perfect scales

In lovely cadence

One and two One and two and three One and two

Hold your breath And play This music

Until the sea In its admiration Smothers your Last

Note.

-Skye

Eden

Eden is down the road from here just beyond the last row house one step into the cow pasture through the hedge

No one plucks these fruit the red hidden in the messy wild branches the skin with rough brown spots

People pick apples waxed shiny smooth from well lit shelves

Mesmerized by their reflection staring out of rosy skin

I am reclined under branches colored in the sun   that flows through scraggly leaves

Sour imperfect fruits tempting me into sins

Long forgotten

-Skye

Wild Apples…

‘The Fruits of the Earth’ (1911) watercolor by Edward J. Detmold Published in ‘The International Studio’ magazine vol. XLII From the Article “A Note on Mr. Edward J. Detmold’s Drawings and Etchings of Animal Life”

Image Credit: Shusaku Takaoka Source: angiefalaji

Saturday Night on the G Train, 1972 (As told by Old Joe at Valley Vista Rest Home)

Swaying with train car Home bound after a long night of drinking I was looking down At the dirty chipped and gummy tiles Feeling a little sick

I heard the door grinding open And she plopped down in a rustle of beaded lace Sitting legs spread wide Like a man with a come-hither body Topped in a rabbit fur coat Right there in the corner seat Almost across from me

I looked up Into Mona Lisa’s Smirking face

I swear it though no one ever believes me Don’t blame them 1972 was a rough one I really was fucked up back then

But there she was in all her glory That smile I will never forget

She asked me for a cigarette Just before the next stop

And when the doors opened Off she went Clomping a little in her righteous rhinestone platform shoes Right off the train, onto the platform And back out of my life.

Artist: Even Liu. Source: Peepchic

Lovers on a Rainy Night

I would tether a cloud for you Because you love the rain at night

With a smile soft and wise you Pull me close and whisper I do not wish for a captive cloud

A lone cloud bound by rope Would weep cruel tears endlessly That would be a torture love

Let the rain drip From the eaves of its own accord Like tonight

You are here The rain is here I am happy.

-Skye

Title: Despair (1926) Artist: Kazys Simonis (Lithuanian, 1887-1978 ) Source: dreams-of-mutiny

The Mother

It was the fall of everything The moment the war came into focus and the house caved in

Choking in the dust my baby dead my mother dead

Me digging the rubble With raw bloody fingers To be broken under the house would be better

Me holding my dead little one under the rubble

But In my despair I could only weep over the shattered house Digging with bloodied hands.

-Skye

Image: Musician Verdan Smailovic, Also known as the cellist of Sarajevo. 1992 during Bosnian war. Source: aconsilio

HAIKU- The Cellist of Sarajevo

We need more Cellists The bombs drop leaving rubble The dead need music

- Skye

Authors Note: I am deeply concerned about my community, country, and the blue ball we are all careening through space on.  These are perilous times in the United States and in the world.  As in all times of trouble art, music, and writing are places of refuge.  Humans are at their best when creating.  We tell our stories, share our loves, heal our wounded hearts and seek to understand ourselves and others.  We can use our creativity to protest injustices and take on the hard dark parts of ourselves and others.

So, in these uncertain times write, paint, and make music. Use your unique voice to beat back the darkness.  We can make this world a better place even when some of us are doing horrible things to each other.

Afterall in this current era marked by destruction, violence and war the answer is simple…

We need more cellists.

Image credit: Isolation,23.03.2020, 20:25, Source: flowersinthedustbin

Night Windows

In the daytime people are hidden The building keeping secrets Of things done in the living room Or the boudoir

No one privy to ordinary And extraordinary comings and goings

In the nighttime backlit lives reveal Themselves In bright snippets of window light In hazy shadows playing on lowered shades In the soft outlines of darkness

Ordinary And extraordinary Comings and goings For everyone to see.

-Skye

Photographer: Jamie Cuen Source: angiefalanji

HAIKU-River Children

Children splash and swim, heedless of the dangers found in deeper water.

Image information: Adam and Eve, 1533 by Lucus Cranach the Elder Medium: Oil, Wood Source: lucus-cranach-the-elder

Paradise Lost

It was told that the serpent Tricked the woman And the woman bewitched The man Into losing paradise

In truth the animals were Satisfied With their innocence

The snake likely wandered into the tree To sun itself in the high branches

The woman was not satisfied She was curious and clever She knew the snake was suspected Of many things

Her favorite mouse was missing The blue birds cried over lost eggs

She stole the fruit And blamed the snake for her Nascent sin

She involved the man Drawing him tighter to her Pressing knowledge into his hand

And it was she who smiled softly as God Released them from the garden And gave them the whole wide World.

-Skye

Abandoned Honeymoon Suite

Time Transient Taste of deconstruction

The graffiti coats my tongue

The sky ogles the bare mattress   The broken mirror calls back to her Bare naked light

Somewhere in the rubble We are submerged In frothy fragrant water

Somewhere in the motes of dust.

-Skye