Unravelling and weaving, sometimes simultaneously

Posts tagged ‘NaPoWriMo’

Ode to the Red Wasp in the Curtains

I hear your buzzing, and it drives me mad,
that soft, incessant humming that you do;
though you are not my enemy (I’m glad),
I’m still tempted to hit you with my shoe.
But I’m resolved to let your buzzing be
(Ha, did you catch that… bee? You are not one)
live and let live as long as there’s no stings.
You really push my human frailty
droning against my window in the sun
fabric chuffing on your beating wings.

I opened up the window for you twice
and shooed you towards it; but you clung there, staid
red body pushed against the glass, a vice
too stubborn to escape when you were bade.
What festers in that tiny brain of yours
that keeps you in, but beats against the wall,
unable to take freedom freely shown,
yet constantly seeks to be out of doors?
Wee russet warrior, you are very small
yet fierce determined, tap, and chuff, and drone.

I could just redPaperWaspcapture you and set you free
against your will into the sultry air;
but it’s become a test twixt you and me,
and giving in just doesn’t seem quite fair.
So I will sit, and listen to your hum
two feet away from a wide open door,
and contemplate the qualities of glass
and wonder what’s made my ambitions numb,
that I do not push boundaries like before,
but seek the least resistant route bypass.

(c) RCGA 2016



The goal is for
both form and surface
to heat and cool
at the same rate
to grow and retract
in seamless
melding motion
creating a smooth bond

Life is more like raku
in application

adjustments coming
and unexpectedly
small cracks
sending quiet pings
rippling around us
with the sound of fracture
skins both thin and thick

(the irony is that if glaze is applied
too thickly
it enhances the crazing…
so the thicker the skin
the bigger the cracks
and there’s no escape
from that flaw
once it’s fired into place)

Rivers of seams
fractal out from our growth spurts
visual reminders
that change comes
and leaves its mark
when we grow too fast
for our skin to adjust

There is no polishing them away
and yet
we can delight in it
take deliberate pleasure
in both subtle and garish fissures
displaying our age
and experience
in such a visual way
no one can mistake them
for anything
but battle scars

No dismissive critic
drawling insults of our crazing
can understand our depth
and strength
or provenance

(c) RCGA 2016
Crazing is a spider web pattern of cracks penetrating the glaze. It is caused by tensile stresses greater than the glaze is able to withstand. ~”Ceramic Glaze Technology”


Lakeside Pottery: Blue Glaze


I started sketching you
but couldn’t finish

as if your spirit
is still too restless to hold still
and I can’t capture it
with the scraping of graphite

can’t trap it
on the flat plane of Bristol
while it convolutes
with some stuttering spark
pencil wood and paper

You always were
like the wind
no matter how solid you seemed
now you are in it

and I can’t draw you


(c) RCGA 2016

Tutus Loco

I miss that look,
that look from soul to soul
that says:

“You mean the world to me.
You are in my blood,
and my breath.

You and I…
you and I are forever.”

There are many kinds of love.
We love our parents,
our children,
our siblings, our friends, our pets…
if we are careful,
we love everyone a little bit.


*That* kind of love.
We call that connection
a mating of souls
for a very good reason.

It’s not that a soul mate
is the only one in the universe
capable of it,

or that we are destined
to have only one great love.

But our mates
offer us something
in their strength
and vulnerability
we aren’t offered
with any other kind of love;

the intimacy
of partnership,
the sharing of the soft belly,
the place to vent,
the place to cheer,
the place to lie down in silence
every night and day
feeling stronger
for being bound

not by circumstance or obligation,
but by that look.

The tutus loco.
The safe place.

(c) RCGA 2015

White Wing Owl

Finishing off NaPoWriMo with a couple of poems… hope to continue the creativity on into the year. Bright Blessings to all my followers, and thank you to the folks who have come by during the month of April. May Day is a rough anniversary for me, the day I lost my husband seven years ago. But where there is tragedy it is the dark reflection of great joy. Each person I mourn deeply had commensurate meaning in my life. Mani’s totem was the snowy owl, and he was a Tai Chi Chu’an student and teacher in the Yang Style, Long Form. We married and lived on the Atlantic coast in Massachusetts, near a nature preserve. In my heart, I imagine him still there, watching his son and granddaughter play with the waves and walk on the sand.

Full moon beams on the salt flat grass
turning it into silver waves
above the shivering strands he flies
white as the night orb glowing

Silent winged
the snowy owl
rides the currents from the sea
as they flow with saline mist
across the flats
to me

The soft control
of lifted wing
of tilted head
of beak and claw

he dances in the wind
like a master in his gi

every motion
full of meaning

He belongs to the earth and sky now
no longer pausing
to brush me
with those feathers
or cast those fierce
dark eyes my way
only his voice reaches me
and the shadow of his dancing
across the argent grasses

(c) RCGA 2015


Inside the restless prowling
back and forth
the pacing

Deep inside the urgent tremor
pebbled skin
cool shivering

At the core the flood of visions
blood rush pounding like a drum
and the images unceasing
oh they come
and come
and come

There is no resisting nature

Nature always has its way

Thin ice veneer that’s civilized
no precedence to stay

and inside
the restless prowling
stops its pacing
coils and leaps

but you’d never know from looking
at her eyes twitch

while she sleeps.

(c) RCGA 2015


Far and away
the birds are singing
hailing morning
from the trees

From a window
someone hears them
music floating
on the breeze

Roused from sleep
with eyes half open
someone wakes
to filtered light

at birds and morning
where went the night

(c) RCGA 2015

La cotte simple

Late medieval fashion redressed

The Boiler

a journal of new literature

Surviving Grief

How to embrace grief and heal

unbolt me

the literary asylum

Tales of haunted hotel floors and faraway myths

Some of my short stories, draft ideas and everyday tautologies.


Submitting to the Glorious Inevitable

Arrows & Metaphors

M. Sanchez Cayuso

Inwardly Digest

Reflections and thoughts on faith, life, and the Christian Tradition

Mohn Foto



Society for Creative Anachronism Every Day of Your Life!

Ranger Medic Nurd

Thoughts of a Park Ranger turned EMS about nurdy cool stuff!


Looking ahead, without looking back (too often)

Michael Cargill

Regular updates of sarcastic and irreverent nonsense.


Books, Reviews and bookish thoughts


Dating, Sex, Rants, Relationships, Non-monogamy and Random Shenanigans

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