Category Archives: Writing

Poetry, Writing

My Elephant

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(Poem 23 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/T6nFtt

My elephant thinks
she’s invisible, despite
the fact that I speak
to her daily and offer
to take her wherever
she may wish to go.

She prefers to lurk in
doorways, eavesdrop on
my conversations with
prospective employers and
watch Korean dramas
over my shoulder.

We’ve settled nicely
into a routine of
keeping each other at
trunk’s length and eyeing
suspiciously any behaviors
indicative of confidence.

She likes it when I nap,
over-schedule, talk on the
phone, or make pictures of
elephants in living rooms
with other elephants in
paintings and televisions.

I like it when she forgets
her vow of silence,
tells me what it’s like to
take up so much space,
to fill the room with herself,
and trumpet her name.

@Home Studio – 23rd poem of the year

Fiction, Poetry, Writing

Mongwoo (Drizzle)

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(Poem 22 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/LQbxbF

This person so intrigued
the Crown Prince
that he nicknamed them
Drizzle in honor of his
favorite weather.

Friendship born of intellect,
shared sensibilities, and wit
creates the game board on
which all future maneuvers
rely, regardless of gender.

The game is set, the stones
properly aligned, the trash
talk spoken in earnest,
and thus begins the falling
in love one move at a time.

@Home Studio after watching the 1st 2 episodes of the Korean period drama Captivating the King – 22nd poem of the year

In the Joseon era in Korea, they played a board game called Baduk (Go) an abstract strategy game with pieces called stones. Mongwoo is the Korean word for drizzle and the nickname given to the opponent by the Crown Prince because it drizzles the first time they play against each other.

Captivating The King. Directed by Cho Nam-guk, performance by Jo Jung-suk, Shin Se-kyung, and Lee Shin-young, C-JeS Studios, 2024, Netflix, https://www.netflix.com/watch/81742990?trackId=255824129.

Runner ups for the AI drizzle photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

Lesson 3 from The Way of the Wizard

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(Poem 21 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

“…I forgot whether I was dreaming of this dragonfly or whether it was dreaming of me.” -Merlin, Deepak Chopra’s The Way of the Wizard    

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/eJQ4To

Merlin once ran around waving a
butcher’s knife like a mad man.
Arthur, alarmed, pleaded with him
to stop and explain himself.
Merlin said he wanted to try thinking
the way mortals seem to do,
chopping and dissecting,
using the mind like a blade.

The violent force of rationality
divides, dissociates, isolates, detaches.
It is the opposite of awareness
which unites, marries, coalesces.
The intellectual universe glue
is knowingness, not “knowing things”.
We see not by sight, but by tapping
into the water of life at the source.

The “mind behind the mind”
must be the “eye behind the eye”
for the seer to stay the same
no matter the scenery.
Depending on the observer,
this poem could be merely ink dots
on wood pulp or electronic pixels
rendered on a screen, or it could be
ideas and information—awareness
manifesting itself in “storable form”.

The eye reading this poem
is an energy cloud miraculously
capable of perceiving images.
Yet, that same eye cannot see
radio waves, neutrinos, dark matter,
love.

“Who saw the eye before the eye saw anything?”

This poem exists because a
consciousness wanted to share
this code and unfold strands
of energy to be revealed to
another consciousness, you.

Are you dreaming this poem or
is this poem dreaming you?

@Home Studio – 21st poem of the year

Chopra, Deepak. The Way of the Wizard: Twenty Spiritual Lessons for Creating the Life You Want. New York, United States of America, Harmony Books, 1995, pp.29-34.

Runner ups for the AI cosmic oneness dragonfly observer photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

Beauty Watches

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(Poem 20 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

Beauty watches Aiko (the husky) sleep.
She studies the paws positioned
in perfect running formation,
as though young again, racing at
breakneck speed faster than thought.
She notices the rise and fall of
breath and memory, dream and peace.
A double winter coat invites nestling,
and Beauty contemplates placement,
position, cause of least disturbance,
optimal geographic juxtaposition
of functional grace, busy relaxation,
dutiful nonchalance, operative indifference.
There is an art to being both beautiful
and resolute, relevant and immaterial–
a skill to pondering both nothing and
everything—and she has perfected it.

@Home Studio – Watching Aiko and Beauty together – 20th poem of the year

Fiction, Poetry, Writing

Proud Bringer of This Is Me

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(Poem 19 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

“I make no apologies, this is me.” – Lettie Lutz in The Greatest Showman

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/FxZumQ

If he rejects all your broken parts,
he doesn’t deserve any of you.
If she can’t accept you scars and all,
she doesn’t need the pretty smooth layer.
If they want to kick you while you’re down,
they don’t get to celebrate your triumph.

If he hopes to bring you guilt and shame,
he shouldn’t earn your praise or loyalty.
If she turns away from your deepest pain,
she doesn’t merit sharing your joy.
If their words are meant to bruise and cut,
they are not entitled to your heart.

Make no apologies; there is nothing you
are not worthy of. You are a glorious,
barricade busting, drum major marching,
get back up again, not scared to be seen,
flood sending, meant to be,
proud bringer of this is me.

@Home Studio after attending Alamo Village Drafthouse’s The Greatest Showman sing along with Debbie and Liz – 19th poem of the year

Gracey, Michael. The Greatest Showman. Twentieth Century Fox,
  2017.

Runner ups for the AI circus proud and unique photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

Lesson 2 from The Way of the Wizard

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(Poem 18 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

“You will know your own innocence again when you can see the love that breathes within every iota of creation.” -Deepak Chopra The Way of the Wizard    

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/epXhfI

Arthur could not see
his own reflection
in the clear water pond
and was afraid to confess
as much to Merlin.
I thought of him today
and the lesson he was
taught in response to
the wonderful news
that a lack of self-image
is a sign of innocence.

To gaze peacefully out
my sliding glass door
is an act of creation,
for the observer plants
the seed of life by
noticing, recalling,
becoming invested in,
and growing to love
the deer who stand
munching, daring the
dogs to bark, antlers
high in defiance,
the squirrels chittering
angrily as they race along
the fence top, provoking
growls and menace,
the birds who nest,
the possums who hide,
the mice who find
their way inside,
the skunks who waddle
around in the dark,
magical beasts who
sparkle with newness
if only we clean our
lenses, witness them afresh,
and listen for the faintest
of songs sung by them all
called, “Behold yourself.”

@Home Studio – 18th poem of the year

Chopra, Deepak. The Way of the Wizard: Twenty Spiritual Lessons for Creating the Life You Want. New York, United States of America, Harmony Books, 1995, pp. 23-28.

Runner ups for the AI cosmic oneness photos to accompany my poem:

Fiction, Poetry, Writing

A Duke By Any Other Name

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(Poem 17 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

“To those contending with chronic intermittent infirmity.” – A Duke By Any Other Name book dedication

https://www.amazon.com/Duke-Other-Name-Rogues-Riches-ebook/dp/B083J1L3ZN/ref=sr_1_1?crid=3UTA5AR2JPHDE&keywords=a+duke+by+any+other+name+grace+burrowes&qid=1705543354&sprefix=a+duke+by+any+other+%2Caps%2C211&sr=8-1

A duke by any other name
might well be a beggar
or find himself locked away
in Bedlam whether sane or no.

A lady of questionable upbringing
is as good as ruined
by too much enthusiasm
or too little interest in finery.

Heaven forbid the two
take an interest in each other’s
worlds, dictums of society be
flouted and customs ignored.

Only truth can heal old wounds,
restore families long separated
by fear of shame, and bring
peace to hurting hearts.

@Home Studio after finishing the book A Duke By Any Other Name by Grace Burrowes – 17th poem of the year

Burrowes, Grace. A Duke By Any Other Name, Forever, NY, 2020.

Health, Poetry, Writing

Strong Suffering

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(Poem 16 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

“When we insulate ourselves from the possibility of harm, we also deprive ourselves of the beauty that our brokenness can display.” -Jay Wolf in Suffer Strong

https://www.amazon.com/Suffer-Strong-Anything-Redefining-Everything/dp/0310344573/ref=sr_1_1?crid=200BYI7CT82UN&keywords=suffer+strong&qid=1705459325&sprefix=suffer+stron%2Caps%2C120&sr=8-1

Strong suffering
bears little resemblance
to gritting of teeth,
white-knuckled grip,
muffled cries to spare
sensibilities ill-suited to pain.

No, strong suffering
is the unfurling of a
closed heart to her lover,
a ripening of self,
splitting apart of shell
to reveal the vulnerable
underbelly of fear.

Strong suffering
does not batten
down the hatches and
bolt the doors
against all possible
atrocities, real or imagined.

No, she flings open
the shutters to welcome
the wind and invites
the intruders to break
bread at her table,
her only intention
to pay attention.

@Home Studio after finishing the book Suffer Strong by Katherine and Jay Wolf – 16th poem of the year

Wolf, Katherine and Jay, Suffer Strong – How to Survive Anything by
  Redefining Everything, Zondervan, Michigan, 2020.

Poetry, Writing

Sor Juana of the Spanish Golden Age

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(Poem 15 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/GVmKE6

Sor Juana of the Spanish Golden Age
refused to see through rose-colored glasses.
She says she preferred, with words on the page,
a different view from all the masses.

With both of her eyes in both of her hands,
she would rather her vision be by touch,
than live life lost in nonsensical lands
created by imagination’s crutch.

But optimism was filtered through green
instead of rose when that great lady lived.
The color of aloe, basil, and trees;

nature’s youth, death’s only alternative.
Her sight was such that she must have foreseen
more colors than anyone could forgive.

@ Home Studio after reading “Sonnet 152” by Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz translated by Edith Grossman -15th poem of the year.

Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz – Selected Works. Translated by Edith
  Grossman, W.W. Norton and Company, New York, 2014,
  pp. 64.

Runner ups for the AI Sor Juana blind rose-colored glasses photos to accompany my poem:

And a few more because they turned out so pretty:

Sor Juana was a feminist nun intellect writer (etc.) who lived from 1651-1695 and is often called the 10th Muse of Mexico. I am reading a book of her writings currently that has been translated into English. I was struck by “Sonnet 152” and the imagery used in her time of green hues rather than rose-colored glasses as the tint of false optimism we recognize currently. I happen to like my glasses quite rose-colored, thank you very much, but I get what she’s saying, especially since she lived in a time when women were much more oppressed. Her criticism of misogyny led to her censure by the church and confiscation of her possessions including over 4,000 books, musical instruments, scientific equipment, etc. She died a year later of the plague.

Poetry, Writing

Life is a Carnival

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(Poem 14 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

“Oh, there’s no need to cry because life is a carnival, and it’s more beautiful to live singing.” -Celia Cruz “Life is a Carnival”

“Ay, no hay que llorar que la vida es un carnaval, y es más bello vivir cantando.” -Celia Cruz “La Vida Es Un Carnaval”

“Ay, no hay que llorar…”
Tears don’t heal a scar.
Instead, accept la paz
granted only by loss
to those hit by the rule
“Que la vida es cruel.”

You see, it’s a lie,
this compunction to cry,
for it says we’re alone,
pero “nunca estará solo.”
Dios está contigo.
God is where we go.

And when we hate
or raise complaint,
sin, pollute, make war,
“Ay, no hay que llorar…”
Rather, sing one and all
“que la vida es un carnaval.”

(@ Home Studio after watching the Spanish musical La Usurpadora: The Musical with Celinda and Debbie, which featured Celia Cruz’s song as the opening number. I have many happy Salsa memories dancing to this song – 14th poem of the year.)

Translation Spanish to English (It will not rhyme in the translation):

“Oh, there’s no need to cry…”
Tears don’t heal a scar.
Instead, accept the peace
granted only by loss
to those hit by the rule
“that life is cruel.”

You see, it’s a lie,
this compunction to cry,
for it says we’re alone,
but “we are never alone.”
God is with us.
God is where we go.

And when we hate
or raise complaint,
sin, pollute, make war,
“Oh, there’s no need to cry…”
Rather, sing one and all
“because life is a carnival.”

Cruz, Celia; Daniel, Victor, “La Vida Es Un Carnaval,” Mi Vida Es
  Cantar, 1998.
La Usurpadora: The Musical, Limón; Santiago, Hiojos, María. Walden
  Entertainment, Inc., 2023.