June Apology: A Writer Wednesday Post

June 11th, 2014 | Posted by Irene in Poetry - (12 Comments)

 

Rose voiceRose Voice, photo and all text © Irene O’Garden, 2014

 

To listen to this post, please click here:June Apology

 

A poem newer than this bloom–7am today:

 

 

 

I wanted to write you,

yet am I lost

in the voices of roses.

 

I wanted my pen,

not the coaxing touch of peach,

the goatsbeard’s palomino mane,

the sticky resins of fertility.

 

I wanted to write you

of things more important than spring,

but my words are webbed in petals,

scattered over the fields

like daisy and bedstraw,

caught in the purpletipped clover.

 

I cannot gather or release them.

I cannot write or speak them.

I am lost in the voices of roses.

 

 

Vernal Icon: A Writer Wednesday Post

April 16th, 2014 | Posted by Irene in Poetry - (6 Comments)

 

sunny bunny

 Vernal Icon, photo and all text © Irene O’Garden, 2014

To listen to this post, please click here:Vernal Icon

This stunning vernal icon on our mantelpiece was created by collagist Lisa O’Rourke. (No website yet–her work was offered at  Tracy Strong’s wonderful studio sale.) Though freshly minted, it strikes an ancient chord in me–a fine untarnished image of fertility that feels at once medieval, and somehow older than Easter.

As accompaniment, here is “Rabbit,” from my Voices of Animals collection. I often share it in the classroom with young bunnies.

 

RABBIT

Spring is the heart

of the rabbit. Spring

is the haunch. My ears wing

my sound: melody of morning

runs like water down. My nibble

my gnaw my sweet root. Then danger!

rustling like birdflight,

fans my ceaseless quickenings.

How I love to be afraid!

For I know I am fast—

the holy scent passes my whiskers,

I joy in the whiz of the grass—

know fear’s good; smell speed there.

Blood runs high, worlds blur

in this great bounding game.

 

The turn the twitch

the switch, the hitched haunch

in twisted white wheat loosed

just before the clamping tooth,

slipping spinning kicking

bare along the pounded bank

Will I make my hole

or float above me watching?            

 

Wished I a safe life I’d live

as a mole! Wriggle short fur

grass tuft tail. I have known

severally this great soaring instant

of death. We die as the grass:

not at all.

 

 

How will you enjoy the rites of Spring? 

 

 

Check out One Poem A Day–great seeing folks read favorite poems.(Mine appears next Wednesday.)

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And here, the info about my poetry reading on May 2 in Beacon:

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SprungSprung, photo &  all text, © Irene O’Garden, 2014

To listen to this post, please click hereSprung: A Writer Wednesday Post

Though momentarily concealed, the sun was out long enough this week to bless the dining-room bouquet, soften the earth in the garden and distribute a general feeling of relief here in the Hudson Valley.

Help arrived yesterday and busted up the last crusty, recalcitrant, gravel-studded humps of snow; scraped away the tattered mats of autumn leaves, and leveled all the yellow silhouettes of “winter interest”—those grasses, rosehips, dessicated flowerheads we leave in the bleakened landscape to lift our hearts.

Snowdrops, crocuses, green poking spears –all the lovely little Spring clichés bring comfort, for I’m wrestling with the angel of an old writing project.  Caught myself thinking that finishing it will be quite an accomplishment.

But that approach can be a winter of its own. Does Nature “accomplish” Spring?  Is it a list of tasks she checks off one by one? When she’s finished, does she collapse in a cloud and say “Glad that’s done!”

Those poking crocuses remind us creative projects are not sets of tasks, either, but living things, with their own seasons, growing out of ourselves into themselves and at last, springing free of us.

 

What’s springing up in you these days?

Wanted to let you know about a delightful project our local newspaper, Philipstown.info is doing. Perhaps your community might enjoy creating this as well–I was asked to record one of my poems–it will air later this month

One Poem a Day Won’t Kill You” celebrates April as National Poetry Month by inviting community members to read a favorite poem, original or borrowed.  The project drew such an enthusiastic response that April may be a bit longer than usual this year.  Tune in each day for a new addition to a delightfully inspiring anthology of poems and voices.

 

 

 

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