Showing posts with label inspiration. Show all posts
Showing posts with label inspiration. Show all posts

Sunday, December 22, 2013

Minestrone

Madonna With the Milk Soup, 1510, Gerard David

The orchestration that captures me
is composed on album covers,

scribbled at night in the margins of cookbooks,
moonless on junk mail.

Steamy bowls wait in the windowsill
until morning, when they have cooled

enough to be spooned and sipped,
the tang that comes with my heightening.

The ladle is filled to overflowing;
take care with rustling, everything might spill.

You have something of mine, maestro
the close rhythm of this sigh.



tk/December 2013


A delicious read by R.A.D. Stainforth...



Sunday, November 10, 2013

Latent Image

Danseuse ajustant sa bretelle, 1895-96, Edgar Degas 

It develops in the bath;
smears mirror steam,
births metallic
in crumpled waves
of toothpaste tube.

I watch it thrash;
to cling to others,
push them under
and climb on top
in order to be rescued.

It does not drown;
settles under gelatin lids,
struggles to evaporate
before the fixer
dodges and burns.


tk/November 2013 


Excellent, thoughtful read by R.A.D. Stainforth...in his black and white world...


Sunday, December 30, 2012

One-cigarette poems

R.A.D. Stainforth's sexy read...inspired by the one cigarette he smokes while reading...

One-cigarette poems

hang sexy and impatient,
hand-rolled thought-bubbles
combust smooth and easy.

Pluck them fast
inhale, before they sprout nervous wings
and take flight.

Pen them down, taste,
capture the essence as it smolders,
circles the ashtray,

spellbound in the mouth,
taking a chance,
bulletproof, addictive.


tk/December 2012


image by R.A.D. Stainforth

Monday, October 31, 2011

Not Now, I'm Busy





I stare at teacups
and blank walls

squeeze a ball
of bubble wrap

as if some kind
of juicy inspiration

might ooze
through my fingers

onto the keyboard
surrounded by books

none of which I read
start to finish

anymore, but graze
from a smorgasbord

dip into my favorite
playboy phrases

then toss them out
for the dogs to enjoy

secretly hoping
they will boomerang

back in the form
of something sexy

something hip
like a trilby or a kiss



tk, October 2011


Listen to the talented R.A.D. Stainforth's reading of this poem:
(visit his excellent blog Black Dogs here)














Join Magpie Tales interactive writing blog here

Sunday, January 24, 2010

what you smilin' at?

There were lots of suggestions as to what the image in my candle
might be, including Whoopi, my Cherokee ancestor, and High
Chieftain. Some of you saw animals and trees. Some of you
suggested I sell it on eBay. Some of you thought I needed a bit more
water in my nightcap. But the comment that really caught my fancy,
was Roy's suggestion that it looked like Nina Simone.

Well, I can't help but agree. Both photos even have a light spot in
the same location near the nose, mysteriously enough. So, what
does it all mean? Well, for starters, I'm thinkin' maybe I need to
listen to more Nina.

So, here she is, ladies and gentlemen, singing "Willow Weep for Me",
a choice I thought most appropriate, especially since Lorenzo got me
hooked a few weeks ago. Turn your volume way up and enjoy. Hope
you're having a great weekend, my friends.


Thursday, January 21, 2010

my muse

Speaking of bathes and creative inspiration, most of my creative
thinking is done in the bathtub, or happens to strike during the night.
Like I mentioned earlier this week, I keep a tablet and pencil on my
nightstand for any sleepy inspirations I might need to scribble down
in the dark.

Lately, in my delicious tub soaks, I've noticed a silhouette in the wax
of my candle. I know, I know, you're thinking I've been soaking a tad
too long. No, she's not the Virgin Mary, but, I like to think of her as
my muse, perhaps the spirit of a Cherokee fore mother there to
comfort and inspire me. She kinda looks like Whoopi Goldberg, too.


Anyway, last night, I was revisiting Ken Burn's The Civil War, and
the charming Shelby Foote was telling about the circumstances of
Julia Ward Howe's (she was a huge activist for women's suffrage, by
the way) inspiration to pen the famous words to "The Battle Hymn
of the Republic."

Of the writing of the lyrics, Howe remembers, "I went to bed that
night as usual, and slept, according to my wont, quite soundly. I
awoke in the gray of the morning twilight; and as I lay waiting for
the dawn, the long lines of the desired poem began to twine
themselves in my mind. Having thought out all the stanzas, I said to
myself, I must get up and write these verses down, lest I fall asleep
again and forget them. So, with a sudden effort, I sprang out of bed,
and found in the dimness an old stump of a pen which I remembered
to have used the day before. I scrawled the verses almost without
looking at the paper."

So, always listen to your muse. And keep a pen and paper handy.