Tag Archives: visual poetry

Trees in rain.

a snake, a stone,
a silvery glow
a hawk, a thrush,
a thorn in your hand

the tale of the night
the bed of the well
three shadows of blue
a stroke of the sun

a loss, a find,
the dead of the night
a sliver of light
the promise of spring.

Ripples on Sea Surface.

Originally published on this website with color version of the same photos, taken in 2013 (ripples) and 2014 (tree) with a poem “Spring Song” on March 30, 2014. and was removed long since.

Removed due to feeling protective of the poem, which was “birthed” as if without my effort.
Shared part of it in my Digital Zine 1: Own Your Shadow however.

So not exactly a social media post this one was, but personal website kinda sorta is ( “social media” ) too!
You are more than welcome to leave a comment, we used to do that and it was really fun before things online got very centralized….

Text is my “deconstruct – re-structure other people’s poems” series, the victim this time is “Water of March” (again).

Last Edited: April 16, 2021.

Aquarius

On the day of New Moon in Aquarius – dedicated to the humanitarian of the zodiac.

Two kites in flight before moon.

dawned on me today, that

I’m gonna miss being me
when I’m gone.

Snow Storm in Forest.
a wood sculpture held in a palm.

Text: “The best thought I’ve ever thought” November 03, 2012, originally posted on cowbird.com.
Pictures: All from early 2014. Kites gliding is a video still, Fukui, Japan, 2011. The small wood sculpture is from 1996.

Snow Storm in Forest.

Monochrome Diary, May 2020.

Sea shells close details.
An abstract line drawing detail.
A wave crest in dynamic movement.
An artist at work.

Cocoon.

She was a compact two wheel drive in the modest shade of silver.
Previous owner from western Japan left a cigarette burn on the driver’s seat.
Sales man at the lot remarked on my face, said I look rusted like the car’s old engine.
Purchase was made in autumn 2011, the year everything felt like one big defeat.

Thought nothing good would come from this, turned out couldn’t be further from the truth.
Soon there were nights parked on a sand dune, curled up to hear the endless loop of waves.
We’d ride up the hills, into the storm and rest under the trees, wrapped in their unquestionable resiliency.
Most importantly though, she was a shelter with changing sceneries, encased my shedding, the morphing, the reaching for Creativity.

My humble, sturdy sidekick fell silent in the late February 2020.
“Cocoon spat me out” I said, I felt like a cicada freshly out of his, with soft pale green wings that harden overnight.
100 months in my modest silver cocoon, had brought me to where I always dreamt I’d visit.
We took one long ride together, thousands sunsets enclosed us along the way.

A wave on a cloudy beach.
Windshield rain shadows on a journal.
Cloudy sky through a driver seat.
A tree in rain through a windshield.
An abstract drawing in afternoon light.
Night Ocean.
Gardenia blossoms obstructed by leaves.
Artworks in a studio.
A windshield pattern on rainy drive.
Swans against water ripples.
A gardenia bouquet in an artist studio.
A self portrait on a curved mirror.
Textile art work in studio.
A rear view mirror self portrait.
Works in progress in artist studio.
A car parked on a rural road at dusk.

This post is dedicated, an ode to my sidekick, we had parted our ways in early April.
Photos are mostly taken with iPhone, all edited using vsco B5 filter.
All artworks are from the series “Spider Lily Red” (2012 – ).
The second selfie: “one eye” is a happenstance, I am so very much a ‘commoner’.
The sales man did not receive my vendetta; figured him being him would be the punishment enough ;)

Uno Suprema

A flat sea shell on a leaf.
A flat sea shell on a leaf.

Sea shell blocks.
Flat sea shells.

Sea shell blocks.
A sea shell piece on a leaf.

A flat sea shell on a leaf.
A flat sea shell on a leaf.

“It is in the struggle between good and evil that life has its meaning.”

A flat sea shell on a leaf.
Blue mussel sea shells.

Visuals:
Collaborative works with The Artist, who did the photographed pieces, all ocean-worn, collected in recent weeks.
Magnificent time working with You, always.
Quote:
“….and in the hope that goodness can succeed.”
Scott Peck, People of the Lie (p.266-7).

Or Perhaps:

Life is like a waterslide, you jump in with a bang, tossed around with gusto and then spat out, into the splashes catching the summer sun, bursting into laughter like blue sky saying,

“it was really fun, let’s do that again!!”

Lastly:
This post is dedicated to my two special friends, one entered, the other exited in July,
to their unforgettable bang/gusto/laughter now imprinted in my heart where I create, I try to, from.