* Alchemy Farmhouse *


mmm…tagged
February 27, 2008, 8:22 am
Filed under: Uncategorized

SO I have been tagged by the fantastic artiste Liz…so here goes:

p. 123

Now the remnants of war are buried in the ground. Ten years ago, when my grandfather was turning up dirt for the first  strawberry bed in our Dacha plot, hit shovel struck metal–a foot long artillery shell, unexploded hibernating since 1944.  A sapper brigade loaded the rusted jacket onto an armored truck and hauled it away. 

-excerpted from Elena Gorokhova’s Belye in The Southampton Review, Volume I No. 1 Summer 2007

check her blog out for more details. This is fun for those of you who are into chain letters and all that jazz…

http://lifeasanartistinwoodstock.blogspot.com/



Birthdays
February 22, 2008, 10:03 am
Filed under: Uncategorized

In the remaining hours

before the birthday becomes,

hopes and fears dangle

like the New Year’s ball

suspended stationary for

so many days

until the last moments

when the trickle becomes

a plunge

the scales are teetering

heaped with reflection

balanced by foreshadow

neither worth the

weight of their worry

but each a coin that

jangles in my pocket

this morning.



Marital Bed
February 22, 2008, 9:58 am
Filed under: poetry

I return from reluctantly

letting the dog out

to see my husband’s trespassed

well over the invisible divide.

I slide back under the blanket

from the edge of my side

and inch toward his

salt and pepper head

freshly shorn,

and cabbage round

–uniform in its leaves and curls.

the dog takes his own place

again, he is the divide,

and husband has no choice

but to roll back to his page,

on the side that if we were a book

would make us backwards like the Torah

whose readers do not believe they are reading backwards

only in another order than those who

invented Christ.

He grimaces as he wrenches his arm out

from under me,

the penalty for border crossing.



snow day
February 13, 2008, 1:17 pm
Filed under: ART, photography

This was the face I got this morning when we all realized it was a snow day here in the North East, so I went with it…

Photo paper and oil pastel on wood 8″ x 10″ 2008



For Her
February 11, 2008, 9:19 pm
Filed under: poetry

I found a piece of your hair

on me today

and it’s been more than two years

since you became the trash

(I secretly fear)

in someone else’s can.

I know it was yours

because it was not mine

and it was not his,

and for the way it was so blonde and

strawberry-dipped at the tip

–I can picture it now.

But in the moment,

I picked it off

my sweater

my hand about to drop it onto the vinyl-tiled floor

(you would have tap danced on floors like this)

and leave it to be swept up,

away,

like all the other evidence that you ever

lived,

scraps that you left behind

–so many then,

so few now

here and there only on an old sweater.

And if I keep them instead,

I might recreate you

resurrect you

only to touch you again,

for a moment.



A poem for a student…
February 5, 2008, 4:13 pm
Filed under: poetry

For a student,

For a student,

My words probably won’t
mean much to you
until the gale winds
are at your front
and the unforgiving sky is steely
But value then
is better
than no value at all,
and so I will explain:
Life is a stark wilderness
and your time here is not
only the training center
but the last filling station before you are unleashed.
The homework you blow off
might have been worth some trail mix,
maybe the odd dry pair of socks.
Group projects are a ropes course;
you’ll know now how to save a colleagues’ life.
Essays are hot meals
and firewood at the ready.
Tests could earn you a blanket, pray,
a sleeping bag.
If you should be so lucky,
so clever
as to study,
they could even be a tent.
So the next time you look at me,
or better yet,
refuse to meet my eye or my assignment,
ask yourself
what you’ll be taking into the woods,
and if you’ll survive that wild.

My words probably won’t
mean much to you
until the gale winds
are at your front
and the unforgiving sky is steely
But value then
is better
than no value at all,
and so I will explain:
Life is a stark wilderness
and your time here is not
only the training center
but the last filling station before you are unleashed.
The homework you blow off
might have been worth some trailmix,
maybe the odd dry pair of socks.
Group projects are a ropes course;
you’ll know now how to save a colleagues’ life.
Essays are hot meals
and firewood at the ready.
Tests could earn you a blanket, pray,
a sleeping bag.
If you should be so lucky,
so clever
as to study,
they could even be a tent.
So the next time you look at me,
or better yet,
refuse to meet my eye or my assigmment,
ask yourself
what you’ll be taking into the woods,
and if you’ll survive that wild.



continuous line backyard
February 3, 2008, 3:09 pm
Filed under: ART

I saw some of my friend’s drawings which aren’t, but look like, continuous line drawings. I used to love doing them, and in fact, felt like most of the time they looked better and more realistic than my more-studied drawings. So, while staring out at the beautiful winter blue of the backyard for hours this weekend as I keep my flu-stricken husband company in bed, I thought I would put my gazing to good use. I think I’ll go make some more now:)

‘Acreage’  Oil pastel on wood, 8″ x 10″ 2008