A House of Doors ~ open poems~

The deep parts of my life
pour onward,
as if the river shores
were opening out.

It seems as if things
are more like me now

that I can see farther into paintings

I feel closer
to what language can't reach.

Rainer Maria Rilke

















I feel enormously grateful to have finished  my 5th book, A HOUSE OF DOORS - my little collection of poems that span 40 years.   (update -  I have just made an EBook edition:  cost: $1.00)  (http://store.blurb.com/ebooks/360737-a-house-of-doors-open-poems)

Most of these poems are mine, but also included are "found poems", the collection of poetry by Joanna Brouk and Felicia Miller, with the illustrations I did for them back in the early '70's when we were young artists in Berkeley.

I have never been a prolific poet by any means...........I am a visual person first and foremost in my communicating and thinking processes. All of the poetry  worth sharing I put into this little book, and I'm well pleased, as I was to finally complete the MASKS OF THE GODDESS book. Honoring the Past, the Muse, the Friends, the Communities, Myself, and the Divine is what this 6 month writing project has been about, and with this book, I feel free to move on and give my attention to new projects.

 FOR THREE WEEKS

the cool moon
bound by occult cords
moves

through the houses
of memory and sleep

distills night in a bowl

But on the night 
of the full moon
what is mirrored

in a still pool?


Felicia Miller (1972)

AMAZONS IV.

At the river's edge

I laid my armor down

laid down my sword and bow

untied my hair

this I did for you

I approached you

lying in the grass

at the river's edge

your body brown

graceful as a tree

unshod

you waited for me

I approached you

with desire

O my enemy

Lauren Raine (1975)

                                                            light
                                                            light
                                                            light of morning

                                                            the fairest light,
                                                            the fairest light
                                                            has come
                                                            softly
                                                            gently
                                                            I feel its coming

                                                            night has given
                                                            night has given
                                                            a place to morning

                                                            breath returns
                                                            and moistens the grass
                                                            the bird's feather

                                                            no longer do I hide
                                                            no longer do I hide
                                                            gone into darkness

                                                            light has come

                                                          Joanna Brouk (1972)


  (5/2009)  As a footnote, because I published those poems on my website in 2006, Felicia found me on the Web, which resulted in us corresponding, and my finally going to Puerto Rico this August to meet her in person again. She's still a mermaid spinning stories about Undine, still the soul I remember well, still beautiful.)

(5/15/2015)  As a footnote to this footnote, I did indeed meet my friend Felicia again, near water as always (in Puerto Rico).  Felicia passed away  in 2010. I've written about her, and our meetings, in this Blog.   And I found Joanna again, in San Diego, in 2011, still beautiful, still making music and poetry, still a friend.  In fact here I sit at her kitchen table, visiting for the weekend.  Below is a pastel I did of her back in 1976.)