Silent Poem

I finally wrote a poem to go with this pic, as suggested by my friends here.

Silent


I have been taken down

like an ornament

put away

silent night


I’m going to walk away

like a senile patient

in shame

silent day


I’ll forget what I’ve learned

like keys left behind

at the lake

silent descent


And deposit rusty bones

like leaf covered litter

decorating a

silent trail

The Big Thicket 2011

It's been 4 years, a hurrican, and a drought since my last visit to the Big Thicket.

Nature has been dealing some daunting blows lately, but the Thicket perseveres.

Many of the oxbows have dried up (like this one here) and the Thicket looks a little thin from tree loss, but as the Ranger pointed out to us, this area is one of the least affected areas in the state from the drought.

Our visiting friends, Sue and Bernie were just thankful to get away from freezing rain, and enjoy a sunny, spring-like hike through the woods.

Downtown Houston

city haze

church reflections

glass appiritions

Our friends from Canada, Sue and Bernie, wanted to see downtown Houston while they were here, so we took them up 60 floors in the Chase Building, down through the tunnel system (which was a waste of time thanks to the last few hurricanes), and then around photographing churches and glass reflections. I learned from the trip that Houston does indeed have a building more than 100 years old (Houston is such a new city by most standards). The church in the second pic is about 150 years old. Sue says that everyone they visit learns something new about the city they live in while they are there.

More From Galveston

While in Galveston with Sue and Bernie, we took the ferry over to Bolivar Peninsula from the island.

Sue and I spent the entire ride photographing the seagulls...

Then watched the sunset on the way back to the island, where we ate steamed clams and Italian seafood for dinner.

Sue's Visit

My friend, Sue, and her husband, Bernie, came to visit us the last week of 2011. How exciting to meet for the first time someone that I've been friends with online for a while. We had a week of taking pictures, talking about writing and music, and showing my Canadian friends some of East Texas.

We spent a day in Galveston.

A day in downtown Houston.

Standing on top of the world on the 60th floor of the Chase Building.

And, a day at The Big Thicket National Park.

The Madisons - Greener

My friends have produce a new CD, and asked me to do the cover art. I used Inception for the front cover, and Sprout for the back. The CD won't be released until February, but here's the video for the first single:



and here's how you can download the song:


See the sweet write up she gave me on her blog The Madisons, and say hi while you're there (she's still trying to get the hang of blogging and could use the encouragement).

Winter at the Beach

They've been continually working on rebuilding the beaches in Galveston since Ike. These were taken at the seawall where there are flower covered dunes once again. Yea!

Illustration Friday: Silent



Inspired by Mary's post for this weeks topic over at IF.

Tennessee Trip 2011

The Appalachian Mountains in Tennessee as seen from my friends' house. I went to visit for a week of hiking and relaxation. It was great to get away from the Texas heat and drought. The fall color was at it's peak.

We had a picnic dinner one night on a hill just up from their house. We ate Amish cheese with wine, and watched a front roll in.

The next morning, I awoke to this view outside my window. It's been months since I've seen it rain like this.

When the sun finally came out again, I went hiking around their property. They own about 100 acres in these mountains.

The hike was photographically inspiring. I've posted more pics here at Silk Creek Portal.

Haunted Tour

Haunted Tours

I once saw the Aurora Borealis
Tried to capture it, but it flitted away
Now I search for my faithful camera
Finding only incomplete equipment gifted me
In a misguided attempt to prepare for passage

I offer guided tours for your reading pleasure
Through secret corridors
Behind the walls of my childhood home
Where a colorless version of those Northern Lights
Flickers among apparitions that haunt here

Whereas Exile

Inception



Embryo



Bithiah's Assignment

Individuation/Assimilation?

...or the lack of both. This poem seems to demonstrate the lack. The > Language > Place Blog Carnival's theme this month is Individuation/Assimilation. I'm a little late to join the carnival this time, but thought I'd post this anyway. Maybe next month.



rush hour

stepping out of line
from a nameless crowd
and losing my place -
socially extrinsic

waste by-product of a
selfish generation
my speech is drunkenness
my sickness self-inflicted
coughing up anger chunks
intoxicating and toxic
ineffectual smears

driving exhaust-fumed freeways
with backward exit signs
slapping laughing faces
belligerently – just like them

groping for wisdom, but
babbling into empty ears
they see I’m lost
nakedness turned inside out
shame and weakness
bead up like sweat

they’re indifferent, and
I’m too tired
or maybe lazy
damned dyslexia



Loop 610's bridge over the Houston Ship Channel, obviously not during rush hour. To me this bridge reminds me of a giant serpent slithering across the landscape. Rush hour traffic gives it the illusion of movement. This pic was taken on a Sunday morning.


This is Beltway 8's bridge over the same ship channel. It makes me think of an invading Roman army. It's a toll bridge, so the traffic's not usually too heavy. This pic was taken during evening rush hour.


Here's a view of the east side of downtown, from 610's bridge. I live between the two bridges, but closer to 610.

More Dickinson Inspiration

Still enjoying my new poetry book. Emily frequently wrote poetry about death.



Relentless Grief

Mother of Silence, father of Cold
Summer’s birds have flown
Sleeping children tucked ‘neath a fold
Spring’s sod and tears not their own

No scraped knee, nor thoughts of what cou’ be
Processional ended too soon
Relentless grief gnaws malignantly
In the house of a winter moon

The living long to be, unwittingly
Reunited beneath the fold
But desire wars with proclivity
There’s no peace in growing old




I wrote this for a friend who said she finally found the right words to describe what she has felt for years, "relentless grief". People say, "there's no getting over the death of a loved one; you just learn to accept it." I think that it is impossible for us to accept death, because our natural inclination for survival is too strong. When we lose a loved one, a war begins inside us. The battle is between the desire to be with our loved one and the desire to survive. It can not be reconciled while we yet live, so what we really come to "accept" is living the rest of our lives with this battle inside us. We learn to live with relentless grief.

Ice Water River

my foot knows where to go
though I’ve forgotten
alighting each step
with precision

like a grasshopper
descending the embankment
leaving roots undisturbed
and sand in its place

grade steepens and
steps turn to leaps
building momentum
yet retaining agility

I marvel – after
months of heavy heat
from a parched withered land
such a light footed find

Ice Water River from below
they say too cold to swim
but I’ll just wade
and find relief from the Drought

Reading Emily Dickinson

After reading many of Ashok's commentaries on Emily Dickinson's poetry, I've become very fond of her work.



I bought this book the other day, and it's been inspiring me to write. For example, I came across this poem, and something about it just sang to me.

Summer for thee, grant I may be
When Summer days are flown!
Thy music still, when Whipporwill
And Oriole—are done!

For thee to bloom, I'll skip the tomb
And row my blossoms o'er!
Pray gather me—
Anemone—
Thy flower—forevermore!




I'm sure when she wrote "anemone" she was refering to the woodland flower, but I thought of this:

Anemone, I long to be
Eternal summer by the sea
Tropical calm – Hibiscus aplomb
In the shadow of Mango Tree

Blossoms wilt when Delta silt
Crosses the Ocean’s current
May Bed’s frailty embolden me
Oh, Drifting garden deterrent!




Since I can't be
eternally by the sea
I bring it to me



Meet Boomhower the Beta. He isn't actually from the sea, but we like to pretend.

Aid for Japan's Artists

My friend, Yuko, is an artist in Japan who was affected by the recent disasters in Japan, and was just interviewed by the Arts NPO Aid program. The interview isn't in English yet, but there are some photo's of her wonderful work. The Arts NPO Aid program is a non-profit program set up to help Japan's artists get back on their feet after the 311 quake/tsunami/nuke disaster. Please visit the Arts NPO website to show your support.

Windows for Drips of Ink

I miss my home. All these pics were taken from my window there.

My computer desk sat just inside looking out over my gardens.

My window was so much more entertaining than any TV.

This little guy and I had a wonderful arrangement. He really loved a certain weed with little yellow flowers, which I let grow in my gardens, and in return, he didn't eat any of my other flowers.

Such a serious little fellow.

Peek-a-boo

Caught with the evidence still on his beak.

Someone's hungry.

Is that a look of guilt?

This little guy would get angry at his reflection... every day!

Well, he's certainly well fed.

And, when they're done eating...