Circus Comes To Another Small Town

Painting: Anguish, 1878 Artist: Friedrich Schenek

Feast of the Ravens

Too early late winter lamb Still and cold in the snow

The ewe bleating Pleading for her child To come away

The ravens’ assemblage Eyes bright and mystery deep

Unperturbed by anguish Fluffing iridescent midnight feathers Against the murderous cold

The forever hungry host Presses in Speaking harsh hard beaked Threats

The defeated ewe Abandons

Her lamb

A feast for Jostling jovial birds Scattering gore In the snow With bacchanalian Abandon At the end of Winter.

-Skye

Source: Miles Johnson

The Lover’s Lament

At first I did not understand The roots you planted

Grew Through Me

Leaving me Pinned to The ground.

-Skye

Image Subject: Friedemann Vogel Ballet Dancer Photographer: Not known Source:Peepchic

Defying Gravity

Defying Gravity is possible Consider when you left me I stayed in perfect Balance In defiance Of the inescapable Magnitude Of Your

Receding

Just prior to crashing to the ground.

-Skye

Mrs. Robinson

Mrs. Robinson

I noticed her reclining in the shadows at the back of room gazing at me

Beware they said she is older than you think

Concerned

She might quiet her gnarled desires with my flesh

I gazed at her in repose

The white flesh heavy in its powder The tinge of desperation Pooled in the corner of her eye

Curious

I wanted her anyway

-Skye

René Gruau

House Hunting

We are looking for a house to keep dreaming really

I like tall grass and wildflowers hardly suitable for some respectable old manor nestled up on the hill of old St. Albans town.

Just a little way down out of town? You say

There is this fine old farmstead over looking Champlain

two Acres of fine grassy knolls but alas We are not people who mow

We would need goats to keep the field neat

I like goats you smile

I smile We can milk them and make soap

We are looking for a house to keep You and I

Victorian with turret? I say dreaming really

I’m so in love with you.

-Skye

Brassaï • Notre Dame Gargoyle-Paris, 1932

Source: afrouif

Brassai and His Conversation with a Gargoyle, 1932

Tucked into Paris between the two world wars

You came to me with the bright lights twinkling on softly rising city noises

And caught me in my common pose rain worn contemplative knowing nothing and everything

Yes, the photographer cried-

I saw this immediately the flash illuminated everything and nothing of you

How can that be old roof top friend that I only think of you in the rain

When in my grainy photo you are always here

-Skye

Image Source: Headless-Horse

Early Morning Milking

Miguel Is there Turning on lights Cleaning teats

Full Udders Need to be emptied At 4 and 4 again

The farmer comes With the hay and the grain As his father did when he was The boy who cleaned the teats

At present he feeds the cows And Miguel Empties their udders

The farmer loves the barn The cows And his children Away at school

Miguel loves the barn The cows And his children so young and Far away In Caracas

Two men working together In the well-lit barn.

Image: “Horizons” by Armando Veve   Source: Inland-delta

Viridius

Vigorous with damp And rot Life comes through me

Even yours

Come to the water’s edge And throw in Your virgin

Death and Life Life and Death

Seasons and circles Moon coming and going

Men tremble and fear

Crops fail to come Babies sicken and die Game is spare And the winter long

Men see little

Know less Than I

Come to the water’s edge And throw in Your virgin

Worship how you will It makes no difference to me.

-Skye

Image: Musician Verdan Smailovic, Also known as the cellist of Sarajevo. 1992 during Bosnian war. Source: aconsilio

HAIKU- The Cellist of Sarajevo

We need more Cellists The bombs drop leaving rubble The dead need music

- Skye

Authors Note: I am deeply concerned about my community, country, and the blue ball we are all careening through space on.  These are perilous times in the United States and in the world.  As in all times of trouble art, music, and writing are places of refuge.  Humans are at their best when creating.  We tell our stories, share our loves, heal our wounded hearts and seek to understand ourselves and others.  We can use our creativity to protest injustices and take on the hard dark parts of ourselves and others.

So, in these uncertain times write, paint, and make music. Use your unique voice to beat back the darkness.  We can make this world a better place even when some of us are doing horrible things to each other.

Afterall in this current era marked by destruction, violence and war the answer is simple…

We need more cellists.

The Wraith’s Requiem

Thin strips of flayed flesh String the bow.

Time is always conducting us in and out of measure.

The ghost of my own making holds fast to darkness

Though, I let go so long ago

Learning to play for no one with fingers once broken

Beautiful terrible music unleashed into the world for me for me

for you.

-Skye

Requiem by Burak Ulker