when gentleness died…

Amazing Amazon by Katerina Babanovsky

illustrator: Katerina Babanofsky

 

The Year Gentleness Died 
by Michael Kiesow Moore

It was the year gentleness died.
Larry was first to go 
the sweet young man covered with purple lesions 
He was the sweetest. Men can be sweet, you know.
Then it was Keith’s turn. 
He was a rebel rouser, full of righteous anger.
 But at his core he was all gentleness.
 And it was a plague against the gentle.
And then Frederic went, 
dear lovely Frederic.
 His spirit was like a puppy’s
 bouncing and joyful, always joyful,
 and now gone. and if you never met Kerry—
I could do this all day, telling you 
all whom we lost the year gentleness died.
They went in the tens,  then the hundreds,
 we lost them by the thousands, 
then ten times that across all the lands. They kept falling, all the gentle ones.
 
“The Year Gentleness Died” by Michael Kiesow Moore from The Song Castle. Nodin Press © 2019.

Since I missed this workshop, …

I’m sharing the graphic jewels to advertise the event!!!!

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Fair2019

Barry

by Barry Morenz

we get older and

practice daily “art of strokes”:

older gets better!

 

turquoise and orange

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from the cliff

 

calls the eagle mom

thru the clouds, the wind,

the waves her feathers spread for babe

Definition #47 synchronicity

the ultimate balance

jeannepoland's avatarThe Vibrant Channeled Creator

coincidental? coincidental?

simultaneous

balance – related gesture:

distributed weight

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Perspective

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arches…reflection

flexibility

endless space to bend

arches…reflection

flexibility

endless space to bend

arches…reflection

flexibility

endless space to bend

The Fish in the Cape

O I love Cape Cod, don’t you?

jeannepoland's avatarThe Vibrant Channeled Creator

cod_fish
Cod fish in Cape Cod

Do cod fish know they’re in Cape Cod?
Nod, at home beneath the cape?
Smile to go into the stew?
Knew they’d see potatoes too?

Do eels know they’re in Eel River?
And lobsters in the Sound?
Do they say “it’s far-thur
Than you swim?” with Bostonian “a”?

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Battle Hymn

Battle Hymn

Please click on this link to hear the Battle Hymn:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jy6AOGRsR80

 

It was on this date in 1861 that Mrs. Julia Ward Howe sat down and wrote The Battle Hymn of the Republic. The poem was first published in the February 1862 issue of The Atlantic Monthly, and later set to the popular melody “Glory Hallelujah.”

The Writer’s Almanac for Tuesday, November 19, 2019


Gettysburg Address
by Abraham Lincoln
Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.
Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.
But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate — we can not consecrate — we can not hallow — this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract.
The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us — that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion — that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain- that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom — and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.
 
“Gettysburg Address” by Abraham Lincoln. Public Domain.

snow power

JRZ

illustration by Julie Rohan Zoch

what’s under the white snow?

 

when I see the snowflake design on the weather report

I freeze, breathless!

forget to consider it a blanket

keeping the roots intact

sheltering the fungus which converts soil to new life

and lets me view light

and all the colors of its rainbow:

energy for my soul!

Georgia O’Keeffe

shopping-1

 

shopping

Nov 15,2019
It’s the birthday of artist Georgia O’Keeffe , born in Sun Prairie, Wisconsin (1887). In 1923, she said, “One day seven years ago I found myself saying to myself — I can’t live where I want to — I can’t go where I want to go — I can’t do what I want to — I can’t even say what I want to … I decided I was a very stupid fool not to at least paint as I wanted to.”

 

When I visited the home and studio of Georgia, I found her determination to see by touch,

to go macro to fill a gigantic canvas with one flower,

to negotiate to share her art with her lover,

to be thorny in a desert.

and colorful in a barren land!

Leaves Leave

still frigid; still grieving

jeannepoland's avatarThe Vibrant Channeled Creator

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Leaves
leave
and
grieve
heat
in cold ground.

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