in the marrow
in the bone
the music plays
the music atones
rhythm beat
a life replete
w/ sound & sun
play my heart
play my style
strike it hot
& keep it wild
raise the voice
speak in truth
star strung songs
that talk to you

Written Words Multiplied
Written words on everything else.
in the marrow
in the bone
the music plays
the music atones
rhythm beat
a life replete
w/ sound & sun
play my heart
play my style
strike it hot
& keep it wild
raise the voice
speak in truth
star strung songs
that talk to you

Got flowers in my feelings,
hearts in the mail;
punishments for healing,
thumbs on every scale.
Weighed all my options,
talked to all the folk;
no additional reservation,
providence bespoke.
There are moments to notice,
first light in the real;
praying over every plate,
like its my last meal.

1908 Leaded Favnile glass
Tiffany Studios, Metropolitan Museum of Art NYC
Tiffany’s work heralded landscape as an appropriate alternative to figural subjects for memorial windows and conferred religious significance upon the natural world. This window, originally installed in a mausoleum in a Brooklyn cemetery, employs a familiar motif, the river of life, with a slender stream zigzagging through mountains and spilling into a placid pool in the middle ground of the composition. Masses of irises and two magnolia trees dominate the foreground and aptly illustrate the coloristic properties of Tiffany’s famed opalescent glass. Folding and manipulation of the glass while it was in its semi-molten state produced flowers that simulate the texture of real magnolia blossoms.
she strikes her pose
on toes
perfectly placed
a bloom
of painted medicine
all in good taste
a statuesque citizen
whispers wisdom
in halls too faint
impressions from
the light of the world
she made sacrosanct

#2wordprompt #vss365 #vssdaily #poetry#strikes #placed #bloom #medicine
take that passion
and put it in a song;
paint your love’s spark
and right those wrongs.
weave your heart
into every little thread;
put those quiet nightmares
back down to bed.
the poetic pulse pursuing
all you’ve got left to give;
hallowed by thy name —
capture the life worth lived.
over the open water
I enter the city main
the bridge hands its levee
with a debt to be paid
the city paved park
takes cash to suspend
the territorial encroachment
of visitors w/o friends
life calls & doors open
across the barter lines
the end not foreseen
when purchased over time

1945—A Rural Interstate Highway Carl Rakeman
From the Federal Highway Administration’s (FHWA) “Highways of History” project. Rakeman’s work eventually included 109 paintings with accompanying text describing and depicting a chronology of key events from 1539 (“The Coming of the Horse”) through 1945 (“Rural Interstate Highway” and “Urban Depressed Express Highway”). https://www.fhwa.dot.gov/interstate/artgallery.cfm

My ceremonial absence was forged in a dream It came fluttering inward, giddy and serene
I became dust with the wild darkness of the night
A golden light swoops in telepathically to speak
With one star shaped scrape it sets my mind free
Ominous presence envelopes ethereal infancy Pulling at the vapor, stiffening into a cathartic shriek
I turn myself back into the universe, incomplete
open the door
to what resides
a cracking instance
from deep inside
look in the room
where you confide
a breaking reticence
to a changing tide
fall to the floor
for you have lied
a humbling distance
to what was bona fide
in this final measure
desperation collides
giving credence
to where joy is denied