Monday, October 1, 2018

A Little Moment


 At the bus stop
on the way to the post office this morning -
an elderly couple
side by side on the bench.
She's holding his face in her hands;
gives him a kiss.

My eye catches them in the act.
Their eyes catch me looking.
She laughs and places her hands in her lap.
He grins.
The smile on my face
(inadvertently let loose during the smooch)
still lingers.

Love never gets old.
I bet her kiss has made his day.

I know this unexpected
little moment
just made mine.

                                     ~~ awyn 




Wednesday, September 19, 2018

Bookmarkers!

Fun mini art pieces today
































Experimental handmade paper cut-outs
with a practical purpose


Monday, August 27, 2018

Poem No. 27


 [Found on page 40]


Hermes
a.k.a. "magnet

of the wise"
talks about

a fallen pearl
that can only

be retrieved
at an un-

fathomable
depth

where earth's
core pours

in molten sheets
to cover

the sea floor
fire and water

mix to forge
the buried Self

a blind creature
no eyes have seen

that generates
its own radiance

from no visible
source

       ~ ~  Paul Pines

Excerpt from "Book Two: The Absent One," in
Divine Madness (Marsh Hawk Press, 2012).


    

Tuesday, August 21, 2018

Goodbye, Tom Clark




 Tom Clark (1941-2018)

Thank you, Tom Clark, for your poetry and presence in the blogworld.  
May your adventures beyond continue.

Saturday, August 4, 2018

Changes

Missing
from my garden this year:
Bees.
    Butterflies.



Tuesday, July 31, 2018

Optimism, in a Counterview



awynart2018
The ship is sinking.
                               "LOOK!!!! There's a squirrel!"

~ ~ ~

Enough of the strategic 'Throw-everyone-off-balance' tactics
and squirrely re-directs for the unthinkful.
Read some poetry instead.
It provides insights,
suggests interesting alternative
Possibilities;
 shows us beauty, and
reminds us that life is
Life.

~ ~ ~

a corrupt world
in its latter days . . .
                                  but cherry blossoms!

                                                          ~ ~ Kobayashi Issa

                       [Translated by David G. Lanoue]


Saturday, June 30, 2018

us, them, I, we: Becoming the Other





we all wake as each other
 
we all wake as each other
i, particularly
pick you up when you die in air and auto crashes: in a dream
i am you, and then
all memory is gone, nothing but a sensation of relief at living on
i felt the flame
touch my skin
i have been a rainbow coloured woman in a sinking bus, i have been a
passenger on many
ferries, i have swum
down, to a door, white metal in blackness, gone through,
and drowned
sleep apnea be damned
i am you and you are me and we are all
reflections of the larger eye that we
are building

~ ~ Peter Greene




©Peter A. Greene 2014

[Thanks, Peter, for permission to share your poem here.]


Thursday, May 31, 2018

Favorite songs that keep being sung




Local singer from our town, in a summer concert awhile back.  I love her interpretation of Piaf.

Fabiola Toupin et l'Orchestre symphonique de Québec interprètent Non, je ne regrette rien, d'Édith Piaf, sous la direction de Gilles Bellemare, lors du concert "Piaf en symphonie", le 6 août 2015 au Domaine Maizerets à Québec.

Wednesday, May 30, 2018

Old Finds



In my library awhile back I found my old green Gregg Shorthand book from high school.  On a whim I decided to write my sister a postcard in shorthand, to see if she could read it.  (She was a year behind me and had taken shorthand as well.)  I was astounded at how much I'd forgotten.  In elementary school we'd learned the Palmer method of cursive, another ancient practice that appears headed for obsolescence.  Anyway . . .  my sister called to say she received it and, amazingly, was able to read all but three words without consulting her own kept copy of the green Gregg book.

So we've been sending postcards back and forth in scribbled forms that nobody else can read, to keep our aging brains from calcifying.  

I'm intrigued by language in general, and certain ones in particular, though I've never learned to speak them.  What cryptographers and stenographers have in common is an ability to code (and decode)--in the case of S/H it's phonetic: 


                         All human beings are born free and equal in dignity and
                         rights. They are endowed with reason and conscience and should act towards one
                         another in a spirit of brotherhood.

 [Article 1 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights] -- Gregg illustrations provided by Andrew Owen. 

  Practical Cryptography, if anyone's game to self-instruct.  :)


Saturday, April 28, 2018

Sunday, March 18, 2018

One Month Later


The snow has not gone yet.
I invite April to hurry up and get here.




Besides the squirrels and sparrows and the two courting bluejays, we
 now have several doves visiting.  They usually all eat at different times -- the squirrels
come first, then the sparrows.  The doves wait till afternoon.  Sometimes they
all arrive together and pretty much ignore one another.  

What I loved about this particular scene was the juxtaposition of accidental symmetry in
the pecking order of the calm, polite doves with the quirky, jerky back-to-backness of
the ever-jumpy squirrels--who abruptly stopped eating to go chase a fellow squirrel
that was thinking of approaching the feeding spot.

I'm sooooooo ready for Spring!  This winter has been a disaster as far as
finishing long overdue projects was concerned.  Some actually never even got tackled.
Maybe like the squirrels, I'm too easily distracted.  ("Look! There's a squirrel!")  

Watching birds and squirrels when you should be doing  ... [insert whatever].