On my Facebook feed there was a post from a friend of mine saying to the world, “What are you up to? Send a picture!” And what I was up to was composing a poem. So I took a picture of myself staring into the Heavens looking for the words, and attached it to my comment “Composing a poem” on her post.
But the picture…it was different from the other self-portraits I’ve done. So I drew it in HB pencil, and for background put some of the words and some of the self-instructions I’d come up with in the course of composing “Bouquet of Bouquets.” Here is the poem:
Bouquet of Bouquets
Spring wildflowers in a jam jar
FTD delivery twelve long-stemmed roses
A deliberately clumsy Picasso drawing
Cumulonimbus clouds carved by fighter jets
Coffee-charged notes with the nails
Fireworks bursts frozen in time
Acne rosacea on Grandfather’s bulbous nose
Football players breaking from a huddle
The grins of Clark Gable and some of his pals
Arpeggios in a Bach fugue
A dozen cocoons cracking open
A troupe of ballerinas with emotional issues
Flowering
May be empowering
And well-timed bouqueting
Spiritually swaying.
****
Just another day in the life of an oldish codger who every so often takes the pressure off the urge to express by looking into the Heavens, writing down stuff, and sometimes illustrating what he’s written.
the new shoes are good but they will get better when my feet teach them to relax
shoes have a life cycle: breakin steady state golden age pronation sole pebble sensitivity ow trashcan farewell
if the shoe is not quadruple-E wide “side-slopover” obtains
between “golden age” and “pronation sole”
shod or not we get a feel of the Earth through our feet and the best shoes can sense the magma churning away deepdown and feel the energy and draw power from it
the worst shoes feel wrong disown the Earth and lead you astray into that badly hicked town Blisterville and her sister city Straitjacket
these new shoes are young promising pups that keep the dogs from barking whilst embarking
There are two word games I play daily on the Internet. One is Words With Friends 2, a fancier version of the Scrabble-derived Words With Friends, and the other is Boggle. I play Words With Friends mostly with a handful of people I know in real life. Boggle I play in tournaments and with individuals, and I play anyone, which can be downright humbling when up against a player far better than I am. WWF2 and Boggle are made by the same game-maker, and one of the similarities is that at the end of a game a player is invited to “See who won!”
See Who Won turns out to be a perfect triple-acrostic spine, so I gave it a whirl. It’s really hard to read the acrostic poem in the image above, so here is a transcription, lightly edited for clarity.
see who won
sissy fuss is how we grow enterprise and march and go endocrines ahoy — c’est bon
For fifteen and a half words, there is a lot to unpack. “Sissy fuss” is a bad pun of Sisyphus, the poor guy of Greek myth who is condemned to eternally roll a burdensome stone up a hill. “Resistance training” found in many gyms and fitness centers is downright Sisyphean. You push and pull and climb and run a treadmill and never get anywhere. Even so, you gain muscle mass and you make more efficient use of oxygen. So going nowhere gets you somewhere, and if you’re blessed with good biomechanics and work ethic, you may find yourself in competitions. And some of the biggest Sissy Fusses ever made are at competitions. One such just occurred at Wimbledon, and two players were fined.
It takes enterprise to succeed. Inherited wealth is not success. Making the world a better place is, and it makes you a better person to boot. If you have life goals, it helps to march toward them resolutely.
As for endocrines, here’s a quotation for hopkinsmedicine dot org: “The endocrine system is a complex network of glands and organs. It uses hormones to control and coordinate your body’s metabolism, energy level, reproduction, growth and development, and response to injury, stress, and mood.” No one succeeds without a contribution from their endocrine system. “C’est bon” is French for “This is good.”
My drawing is meant to be a mysterious metaphor for winning and winners. I apologize for the murk–I both underworked and overworked my penciling. I imposed a deadline for myself of today, and got a little too ambitious with the implied planets and archetypical competitors and pseudo-calligraphy and such. But if you look carefully you’ll find a niftily drawn cat, and the clear message that felines are born winners.
I can’t think of a better way to be a winner than by practicing the wisdom imparted by George Carlin as Rufus in the Bill & Ted movies. “Be Excellent To Each Other,” Friends! 🙂
Here is an oddness: This is the final version of a drawing which by definition is unfinished. Titled “Life as a Series of Erasures,” the drawing itself has been extensively erased., redrawn, erased again. The roots of this approach may be thought by some to have been planted by Robert Rauschenberg, who erased a Willem de Kooning drawing to make a point about the Ephemeral (my guess as to what he was up to, anyway), but centuries previous Rembrandt had taken an etching of his which had an extensively-drawn crowd scene, and taken his scraper to completely eliminate his hours and hours of drawing. Prints of both states still exist. Was Robert R riffing on Rembrandt? He’s not around to answer.
There are four acrostic poems-in-the-making in this drawing. They are all double acrostics, with spines/titles “Denude/Bemoan,: “Resist/Desist,” “Derail/Detain,” “Repeat/Defeat.” Note that on the drawing the third title appears to be “Detail/Detain.” “Derail” is better. ERasure and redrawing would be done, were this drawing not finished.
Derail/Detain
Deride the Women; Hand the Maid Ensconce the sex in marmalade Release the Kraken mon petit And have another cup of sea I wish for Love and get mere Sin–I Lost my will to re-begi
This poem is a protest against the recent US Supreme Court ruling overturning Roe v. Wade. “Release the Kraken” was a command issued by Ginni Thomas, wife of Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas, as part of the events surrounding the January 6, 2021 insurrection. There’s a tip of the hat to Margaret Atwood and her The Handmaid’s Tale. There’s also an implicit nod to now-deceased Supreme Court justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg, who has been roundly betrayed by certain recently-appointed Supreme Court Justices, as well as by Justice Thomas, who is itching to turn back the clock further with more reversals. Two-thirds of the Supreme Court is politically hacking for the Repulican Party now. This is what we have come to.
On the positive side, outraged women across the country are protesting, and the pendulum may well swing again in my lifetime. I hope so. The little I can do to further that swing of the pendulum is right here, and you are reading and seeing it, Friends.
Life IS a series of erasures. At its best it erases Injustice and redraws Betterment. Let us strive to choose our erasures in the favor of honesty, decency, and lovingkindness.
Final note: under the word Defeat in the lower right-hand corner is a question mark, and underneath that, the answer “NO!!” NEVER give up, Friends. Ever. 🙂
In this image I exploit the checkerboard-patterning connotation of Victory (a checkered flag is waved when the first automobile crosses the finish line in certain international races) and I fill some of the whitespace with certain considerations. One less obvious consideration is the basic function-notation of algebraic variable x, conventionally rendered “f(x)” and pronounced “eff uv ecks.” It is a shorthand way of saying that a variable is being put through a process, perhaps, but not necessarily, describing something happening in the physical world.
Since “Abstract Expressionism” is too history-laden and just doesn’t seem like a good fit, I’ve come to call my not-quite-representational drawings and paintings my Something To Look Ats. They are visual experiences, celebrations of what art supplies can be compelled to do.
With that in mind, O Viewer, see what you want to see and don’t worry about what you are supposed to see. If it reminds you of something, that’s natural, and also unique to you. Another person will be reminded of something else.
Part of love of country includes acknoledgment and ownership of its failings. My country, the United States of America, has a shameful record of gun violence against schoolchildren. It goes back decades. And every time a fresh incident heartbreakingly occurs, the sellers and fanatical owners of guns trot out the same arguments, including “Guns don’t kill people–people do.”
Well, that’s nonsense. Guns literally WEAPONIZE people, enabling the evil and deranged to do far more grievous bodily harm than with just about anything. The gun makers strive to make the guns effective, and that includes ease of use, kill capacity, and, thanks to gun lobbyists, convenient to obtain.
The drawing I made today isn’t pretty. It is meant to not be pretty. This is an ugly side of my beloved country, and I do not wish to prettify it.
Our lawmakers have been more driven by profit motive and campaign chances than by common sense and true care for constituency. I have no money, no political influence, nothing but a voice and the heartbreak that drives it now. So this post is the utmost I can do. Readers, please, if you have the ear of lawmakers, please urge them to do the right thing and not the sleazy, money-grubbing thing.
Once again Elizabeth Valenzuela renders in poetic form a true slice of struggle and fulfillment in the world of the Unhoused.
Taylor by Elizabeth Valenzuela
The woman met Taylor During her visits with Dale at Affifa’s Adult Family Home
He sat on the front porch every Sunday Reviewing the Sunday Advertisements A magnifying glass in his hand
But still wearing his only pair of Eyeglasses Both lenses shattered and yellowed with age
Dale would sell him one cigarette for a dollar When Taylor asked him for one But only if he was feeling generous
The woman started handing Taylor Cigarettes behind Dale’s back Sometimes one or two cigarettes and On special occasions A full pack
In return Taylor Who always had a pocketful of Werther’s caramels Would slyly pass her a caramel When she walked past him on her way out
After Dale died The woman continued to stop by and see Taylor
He had never had a visitor in all the years he lived there Having been previously unhoused This is how the friendship started and it Continued after James moved into Dale’s old room Serendipity in action Déjà vu on display
In December Taylor showed her an ad A remote control race car He said he was Saving money to buy one
Santa brought him one for Christmas He and James played with that remote control car
Then Taylor had a heart attack
He was taken to the hospital He was unresponsive He was in a coma for many weeks No family came forward
The Hospital petitioned the Court to remove Life support Only the woman that stopped by for a daily visit Stood vigil by his bed
The day the Court Order was issued They transferred him to another room And with him his photo And information the woman had posted
So the hospital staff Would know that Taylor was loved
The next few days The woman sat by his side Gently holding his hand And telling him that she would be there if he lived And that he would be ok If he went Toward the love That was Waiting for him On the other side
That it was all good That he was loved
He was perfectly still in that hospital bed Machines had been unplugged two days prior
One tear fell down his face Silence As the woman leaned in To kiss his forehead
The next morning when she stopped by His bed was empty
James and Taylor at Affifa’s Adult Family Home playing with Taylor’s remote control carTaylor Doughty
