Sent to remind us …

Turquoise Dragonfly2

Some things can’t be

improved upon

… Like beauty,

or the graceful turquoise geometry

and gossamer irridescent wings

of a dragonfly,

emissary of the spirits

sent to remind us

that magic lives within

and amongst us

at every moment.

 

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Feet

feet

In honor of National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo) during the month of April, I am unveiling the following poem, inspired, probably, by Shel Silverstein.

Feet are good to walk upon

and good for running, too;

Without them very many things

would be quite hard to do:

like pedaling, kicking, standing, stomping,

wading through the goo;

like dancing, skipping,

skinny-dipping,

frolicking and fun;

playing piggy-toes and footsie,

and swimming in the sun;

and trekking, climbing,

double-timing,

lurking, lunking,

slam-dunking;

car driving,

snorkeling, diving,

bungee jumping,

bumper bumping;

hunting, planting,

lumbering, panting,

slinking, sliding,

marching, riding;

hang-gliding,

skipping, striding,

passing, blocking,

sleep walking;

base running,

engine gunning,

dunking, spiking,

boating, biking;

high jumping,

floor thumping,

volleying, serving,

steering, swerving;

dashing, fleeing,

springing, skiing,

skate boarding,

river fording;

beach yoga

in a toga,

lunging, stretching,

drink-fetching;

standing up and balancing,

or stretching out your toes;

or wearing shoes or sandals,

or snowshoes when it snows;

or socks or clogs or moccasins,

sneakers, skates, or cleats;

flip flops, or flippers; even bare

we love our feet;

Through blisters, cuts, and bunions,

twisted ankles, and stubbed toes,

our feet are always there for us,

just like our eyes or nose;

Digging into sandy surf,

on mud or grass or street,

our feet are here to ground us, so

appreciate your feet!

Oh, Mother Moss

Mother MossOh, Mother Moss

that tender grows,

You catch our eye

and squeeze our toes;

Your verdant, subtle autumn hues

beneath the misty grays and blues

so tentatively, proudly there

braving the sun and drying air:

You fill my heart with swift and subtle glee,

A sign of health in brush and bough and tree.

© Anne Campagnet-Reed 2014

 

 

What is an Artist?

From Under the Pages

Orchid and Wasp

An artist is someone who:

Sees it all right away,
sees it in a different way,
pisses people off
doesn’t really care if people understand her or not
trusts her judgment
knows she is right
worries about what people think
wants to be liked
knows she will never be understood (in this life)
Must have chocolate every day
is obsessed with beauty
will hunt truth to the death
wants to live… really live
is interested in what other people think (and especially IF they think)
MUST see others’ art
loves the greats
needs to share
needs sunshine and plants
needs animals
ponders stuff she doesn’t think is great—but not for too long
must communicate
needs to be loved
can’t stand routine
needs self-discipline
is painfully sensitive
forgets what time it is
does it for love
obsesses over an idea
is anxious about the future of the world
is anxious about…

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Pandora: Catalyst of Conscience

From Under the Pages

IMG_0041

Pandora
was framed;
Zeus should have
manned up
to Prometheus.

No one likes
bones and fat,
when
expecting
meat.

Red with rage toward the titan,
the thunder god
punished us,
like uncomprehending children,
for receiving fire.

Maybe Pandora
is just a metaphor;
not for women, but for childish mankind
toying with the elemental force.

© 2014 Anne Campagnet-Reed

(For the final poem in my NaPoWriMo–National Poetry Writing Month–commitment, I decided to try my hand at the new Gogyoshi form: five lines, no meter or rhyme, concise imagery. In the above series, four Gogyoshi are arranged to tell a story, but each one can be read and understood as a separate unit.)

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