With My Hands: Flowers Found, Pressed, and Preserved, and A Little Ink Design from My Pen

That is my reflection appearing in glass and this art is now up to date, just complete Wed., Jun. 22, 2022, photo today. Little changes made by clarifying the text in black ink, clear glue, background white, card pasted onto it with the little gathered pressed flowers, this way to emphasize the brightness of the…… Continue reading With My Hands: Flowers Found, Pressed, and Preserved, and A Little Ink Design from My Pen

These Hands…

In the post, A Note Found and a Bookmark and A Great First Art Show, I’d found some surprise things inside books, like a handwritten paper, so I decided to make up my own writing prompt with an idea I’d had…Whether you try this imaginary exercise or another, these free writes can be plenty of…… Continue reading These Hands…

More Poems and Even More Poems, Bringing Out the Purple Wizards…with Jason Preu

📰Fresh off my Goodreads Press, the poetry book whose title and cover had been hidden by the first book on my coffee table, for suspense, included with that first one generously as complimentary bonus book by author—revealed now that it’s read, my introductory thoughts about the book: More Poems about Purple Wizards and Neon-Bright Exceptionalisms…… Continue reading More Poems and Even More Poems, Bringing Out the Purple Wizards…with Jason Preu

I Turned My Villanelle into a Ghazal Today

wrote by hand first, revised on laptop, typed paper is the original villanelle in transformation… I have turned my villanelle poem that was really giving me trouble into a ghazal today! I resisted doing that at first feeling I was maybe betraying the villanelle form and maybe also trying the complex, known-to-be-challenging ghazal form again…… Continue reading I Turned My Villanelle into a Ghazal Today

Author and Poet, May Ziadeh’s Birthday

Happy birthday, Mayy! 😊💕136 never looked so good! (…and that is earth yrs.) 😊🎊 … b. Feb. 11, 1886 in Nazareth, lived in Egypt and Lebanon, d. Oct. 17, 1941 in Cairo. May Elias Ziadeh was a writer and editor, author of poetry, biographies and fiction, knew nine languages, was a speaker, translator, and tutor,…… Continue reading Author and Poet, May Ziadeh’s Birthday

The Latest Draft of My Sonnet Is Being Guarded with Seriousness

I made a cup of afternoon tea and wanted to also read the fourth draft of my new sonnet in progress. I quickly found the first three drafts loose…and my most current one, not so free! But definitely not lost and definitely not ‘run away.’ This lyon is guarding it for me, and I look…… Continue reading The Latest Draft of My Sonnet Is Being Guarded with Seriousness

Finding Things You Already Had, A Runaway Sonnet: #2

It looks like a large, elegant old book, and it opens up for storage. I’ve started writing a new poem yesterday. Peeko loves to be a part of the creative process…Is that a hen, you may wonder? And now Peeko has a pen and his own separate page. As I began writing by hand, I’d…… Continue reading Finding Things You Already Had, A Runaway Sonnet: #2

The Excitement of Finding Things You Already Had: #1

Well, I decided to find new table mats and to replace the ones I’d burned a little years ago with a frying pan maybe twice and hadn’t picked them out specifically, also saw I wanted more color and softness. These handwoven placemats and this vintage napkin holder I found on Etsy arrived yesterday morning and…… Continue reading The Excitement of Finding Things You Already Had: #1

A Morning So New

Here in my new spot to sit with tea in the living room on a morning with sun—tilt the chair beside the window, set down the cup upon the tea towel on the side table and be in the light. It’s a very sleepy morning, but a beautiful one anyway. The sky, how it looked…… Continue reading A Morning So New

‘…What Should I Be?’

Upon awakening this morning I worked on my first ghazal poem awhile yesterday in the late afternoon and into the night just before bed. The traditional ghazal form contains the same word at the end of each last line of the couplets and a word that rhymes with that end word is placed before it.…… Continue reading ‘…What Should I Be?’

A Poem by Rumi I Wrote in My Pen Tonight

I added some stars. Not because I’m overjoyed with my day but because I thought you should have them. —Jade Some Kiss We Want by Rumi There is some kiss we want with our whole lives, the touch of spirit on the body. Sea water begs the pearl to break its shell. And the lily,…… Continue reading A Poem by Rumi I Wrote in My Pen Tonight

Wild Dreams, So Eager And Light

The moon has made its way into Aquarius, which was the sign May Ziadeh was born (who you have seen make a presence in the posts in the recent weeks; I let people and things be where they find themselves within my heart.) She was born on February 11, 1886, a hundred years before my…… Continue reading Wild Dreams, So Eager And Light

I Am Happy Here; I Have Yet To Come Back Out

When I had found this book and looked within, I fell into a shallow sea and settled into the water, resting comfortably upon wet sand, as if not yet to come back out. I had not yet read the poems or any books by this author, and I am translating them from French into English,…… Continue reading I Am Happy Here; I Have Yet To Come Back Out

A Soft Breeze Stirring And Lifting The Flowers…This Poem

And you, my beautiful friendWith the intoxicating smile?—They call me ‘Mimi’In the hours of delirium;And love my eyesThat point to the azure skyAnd my voice….home-like,….pure,Spring gave me to MayAnd I was bornThen I was ordained,Now I am a priest. Now my name is….And my light wings carry meAway from the Conventto the foreign lands.I love to…… Continue reading A Soft Breeze Stirring And Lifting The Flowers…This Poem

Dream Flowers and A Pen in My Hand

I am making a book of poems I’ve read in Dream Flowers  by May Ziadeh. I felt I’d like to draw some flowers and clouds and mist. * It is her  first book  of poems published under the penname, Isis Copia You beautiful Silver Wing Thrilling life, your name, Little child? “My name is Lilie…… Continue reading Dream Flowers and A Pen in My Hand