one human hand
intentions and inventions
touching the world🪶
Reach
Tag Archives: Art
I Almost Didn’t
I make plans
I recognize
The Importance of Getting Out
I make plans
I get ready
or imagine what that means
Ready
I change my mind
Next time—
Friday I let pass
Saturday I look:
Yes Maybe maybe
I drive downtown
round and round
Is it okay
if I park upside down
Think to give up
I don’t mind
giving up
I’ll be late
how rude
Best go back home
pretend I went
Report how grand
was that cool event
How does this end
I park
I walk
I take it in
Art and Film
creative compassion
What grace
and a flimsy green empty chair
the gallery is hot
One opportunity
the night I went anyway
Sitting with Grace
a minor major Premiere
I was there
I was there
I’m still there🪶
The Art of Everywhere
we were seeking sun light
contrast to an ice cream sensation
distractions are everywhere though
and bold as we supposed we were
both succumbed:
she to two red squirrels frolicking
I to one small canvas of ethereal blues
western cedar canopy our venue
standing room only—-
Canada Geese have season’s tickets
she says « you can’t take it »
and I confess I did think I might
then we stand silent watching squirrel play
It’s sunny across the way but
we never make it
ice cream cool and the moment both pass
Our stroll resumes
scratch skip and a half blink
Art can stir
changes leave a kind of glow
light alters you from inside🪶
Impressions In Galleries
Between pieces suspended
voices of past occupants whisper
from red brick walls
Waves
Waves on the sand
carry letters
whisper stories
All we are is motion
balance on the wind
Wall Art
They are selling their condo
all inclusive reads the promotional draw
You’ll get everything you need to live well
There’s a stove and a washer
refrigerator, a red sofa, and two beds
A mirror in the hallway so you always
have someone you can tell your troubles to
Drift in and out each of the five rooms
a virtual tour riding tilted on a giant balloon
Each wall’s smooth as sheer windswept cliffs
no art or books here to hold or pause to gaze
Curious returns to the shining hall mirror
condolence messages via a smudged screen
You must be so lonesome here
Talisman
He was dancing
I saw him
But when I turned
he was solid still like death
Tidy crimped in his place
On the front lawn
basking in the pale Saturday sun.
Hands
We were slow shuffling up Pilot Street
I promised I’d show you where fairies reside
Sea was roiling west winds were sighing
Stop for flowers we lingered no consultation between
Sometimes kindred depend on synchronicity not words
Man and his camera honouring life beneath stoic Garry Oak
We decide it’s phenomenon worth brief watching
But it’s the mirror on a trunk affixed askew
Spoke to me about what to do
And I like the way you smiled your acquiescence
Raise your small open hand you gentle friend spirit
I know the difference between a wave of hello and
Help I need rescue
Art
Why should I want to contain you
Place your beauty within this cage in this frame
For is not arresting all at the essence of Art
Fragrance of imperfect freedom
An unleashing
Flight from confinement
Escape from ordinary
Exploration of sensescapes no corporeal beings roam
Wings
Logic and deduction and evidence and explanation
Too loaded to follow
A bridge deconstructed an outline made of squint
Lace and velvet satin and flowers rivulets of sky in an ocean of dream
Scenes of an unscene
Can I slip into my/your/our centre in secret moments
Touch your raw naked pulse
Feel
What it is to know truth at the intersection
Where imperfect breath and depth of life exchange promises
Without uttering a sound
But a shift
Caught drifting soft past
A presence
Something there
Man Without A Face
There is a man without a face
I saw his portrait on a wall today
His hair is black and all in place
Don’t know his name
Don’t know his trade
Don’t know the reasons for his fate
I think a lot about him
Wonder how it feels to vanish with no trace
What it’s like to be a man without a face