Sleeper, Dreaming

This came in response to a post on dVerse, Poets Pub, from Stuart McPherson, and to the referenced sculptures on exhibit by Paladino in Villa Fiorentino, Sorrento, Italy.

I also watched this interesting video with haunting music by Brian Eno and featuring the sculptures of Palladino at YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2-q_DNIDGJU

 

Sleeper, Dreaming

(reflecting on I Dormienti by Mimmo Palladino)

She places her ear close to the sound of the earth
where cool green water pools upon stone, caught
in a memory, when air she breathed was fresh with
the breezes soft against her cheek, when the hot winds
that now weigh down her body were but passing
moments of brief summer.

She has become clay, she has become stone herself
as she sleeps, her cheek pressed to the ground. She
dreams of winter and the immaculate white of new-
fallen snow. She remembers the joy of making snow
angels. Her mouth remembers the taste of ice-crystals,
the quench of cold water in her throat.

Carol A. Stephen
August 14, 2012

No-Comfort Zone Week ending Aug. 12

This week was one of quiet sadness and reflection as I attended the funeral of my friend’s daughter, and marked the 8th anniversary of my husband’s passing.

Beyond that, preparations for Tuesday, the 14th featured reading at Tree as a Hot Ottawa Voice. Today I pick up the copies of my new chapbook, just in time.

 

Carol

Company for Lunch (poem)

In response to a prompt at imaginary garden with real toads. Laurie Kolp’s challenge to write to the word miscreant. I saw a photo that Laurie had a link to that resonated, and just happened to work well with the word prompt too.

Company for Lunch

Just before noon our noses
find the source of wafting smells
fried potatoes and hot oil, a soupςon
of vinegar and salt, ketchup for non-purists
or non-Canadians. Chip wagon.

Chips (BE), French fries (AE), French fried po...

Chips (BE), French fries (AE), French fried potatoes (AE) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

We order our usual medium fries, salt
and vinegar at the half-full point,
then another generous scoop of hot
potato, fingers of starchy yum.

Trail of Crumbs photo Credit: L. Kolp

My brother’s serving overflows, he drops five
leaving a trail of crumb-gulls,
french fry hawks and other
feathered miscreants to squawk
and hover, a flurry of wings as each
tries to steal a treasured prize.
In thirty seconds, no trace of spill remains.
A wary truce as birds move off to
wait for the next free lunch.

Carol A. Stephen

August 11, 2012

No-Comfort Zone Week ending Aug. 5

Surprising how quickly things change when life throws the unexpected into the mix. This week my thoughts are with my friend, who cannot join me on the restart of the CHIP program Instead, she will be looking after a friend who has a terminal illness. Girl, I am thinking about you, just so you know.

And yesterday received word that another friend’s daughter, not yet fifty years old, has unexpectedly died. So I am thinking about her loss today also.

On the one hand, the grief one goes through over a longer period of time as an illness progresses. On the other, the sudden grief of the unexpected and immediate loss. Neither way is really easier or more bearable than the other, I suppose. As I try to empathize with someone else’s loss and their grief, I always come back to my late husband’s battle with heart disease that was taking him slowly, and then the car accident that, even so, cut his time short. But I have not lost a child, so I cannot fully understand the way that feels.

Still, my thoughts are with both of my friends today.  I wish I was able to offer more comfort to each of them. Wishing both strength and peace.

Carol