poemimage

Where text meets image. Where the visual intersects the literary.

Tag: moon

My Mother Did Not Speak to Me of Such Things

When I was young and my mother even younger in the history of the world I stood one day looking at the rain outside the window and on the window.

And my mother did not speak to me of rain upon the sculptures at the Hoysaleshvara temple in Halebedu, Karnataka, SW India, carved in the 1200s of the common era. No. She said farmers need the rain.

And my mother did not speak to me of astronauts or ancient astronauts or vimanas sailing through rain and cloud. No. She said farmers need the rain.

And I believed her. I had no reason to not believe my mother speaking of rain.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vimana

Constructing a Self-Referential Collage

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Moon shattering upon a highway her voice inside you.

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Her voice inside you, a falling stone.

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Her mountain stone an echo, your mouth erupting.

fish

Tattooed with Hittite song her skin barely visible, a windshield.

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Her Hittite moon evaporating, condensing upon your windshield.

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She confuses you while casting forth the vibrant song of singing birds.

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Birdsong at work within you, within a song-stone breeze, erupting.

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Her stone-sliding an echo.

sphere

Almost a whisper

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Your voice evaporating & erupting, an engineering marvel.

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Lyrics on collage from ‘Just Like Tom Thumb’s Blues’  https://vimeo.com/113869969

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The moon by Josie Di Sciascio-Andrews

 moon dragon

I am the moon

round

distant

cold light

reflecting the sun’s warmth

back to a blue planet

bluish green

a lover’s smile

forever light years away

faded-goddess2

black space

gravity pulling

tidal waves of emotion

emotional

forever love

on shores of childhood dreams.

village moon

I am the moon

pale maiden in the morning sky

large orange crone at dusk.

river

Alone

I ignite the dark

for moonlight kisses.

garden face

Josie Di Sciascio-Andrews has two collections of poetry: “The Whispers of Stones” and “Sea Glass”.  Nature and one’s place in it, is her muse. In 2013, she was shortlisted for Descant’s Winston Collins Best Canadian Poem Prize. She lives, teaches and writes in Oakville, Ontario, Canada.

Winter by Linda Woolven

winter one lw

Bruises

smudge the countryside

in winter blue and purple.

winter two lw

winter ten lwwinter ten lw

As shadows steal

the winter white.

winter six lw Read the rest of this entry »

Beulah Hill: Slideshow. by Michael Gallagher

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Crescent Moon hangs loose from sparkling Venus,

Blinking satellite hobbles through cobalt sky,

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City silhouettes haunt low horizon,

bright moon

On a garden bench, frozen crystals

Reflect the hidden stars,

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Robin song greets nascent dawn,

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Chimney crow steals dregs

Of last night’s heat.

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Sudden gust stirs the stillness,

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Threads the willows dangling tresses,

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Scrapes the bones of a dying oak

And drives snow-clouds over

Croydon Town.

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Mike Gallagher’s collection ‘Stick on Stone’ is published by Revival Press. His poetry has been published worldwide and translated into Croatian, Japanese, Dutch, German and Chinese.

new pi

Before deciding to address Beulah Hill: Slideshow. I had been creating images of an eBook Reader in the future, discovered as temperatures shifted, revealing a poem covered with soil and frost & still mysteriously visible. I decided to adapt those visuals and, befitting the poem, layer earth-tones with space images from the NASA Goddard Photo and Video files @ Wikipedia Commons.