shamash says...

"Peace: Black and White"

Day 7 of 30:  Our GloPoWriMo 2019 prompt for today is to write a poem of gifts and joy. What would you give yourself, if you could have anything? What would you give someone else?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Peace: Black and White"

 

drop all the color

for just a day

 

choose something simple like

the dark brush, the bristles on

bleached canvas

the invisible

curve,

the evaporating water

on the concrete walk that

circles the lake

 

drop all the color

for just a day

 

contemplate

a solid word printed on a page 

a stamp on a white envelope

 

drop the symphony.

consider, instead,

a sheet of music fluttering in the wind

 

forget the game

notice the chess board,

the set of dominos

 

for one night, exchange your dance moves,

the disco ball,

for one long stretch of a tiger cat or

downward facing dog

 

drop all the color

for just a day

 

yawn and

admire the poppy seed, the daisy

 

stay home on a Friday night.

embrace JOMO

The Joy of MIssing Out

stir mushrooms in cream

in a pot

on your kitchen stove

 

leave all the spices in the rack and for

one weekend just

honor the salt.

the pepper.

 

exchange your wok for a cauldron

 

give yourself

warm river stones and sand

 

drip almond milk in tea.

drop a single coffee bean through the clouds

and watch it float in your

glass

 

spoon caviar on the china plate that

clinks in your kitchen sink

drink warm coconut milk and melted chocolate

bring out the linen tablecloth and

cloth napkins

 

drop all the color

for just a day

 

give away all your boas and sequins

place in your hair

the feather of a dove, 

the feather of a raven,

wear muslin, white linen,

a carriage cap

 

drop all the color

for just a day

 

contemplate

the snowman’s charcoal eyes

and what remains after

a day in the sun.

 

step out of your bath

onto a

white towel

wrap yourself in cotton

 

drop all the color

for just a day

 

breathe in

all parts of

yourself

 

give yourself permission

to love

the silhouette of one

lone witch

flying across the face of

the moon

 

 

 

~by Kat Shamash ©2019 Kat Shamash

Image "Open Air Breathing Room: Lama Foundation" ©2011 Kat Shamash 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Stonehenge"

Day 2 of 30:  Our GloPoWriMo 2019 prompt for today is to write a poem that transforms the natural world into an unsettled dream-place and resists closure by ending on a question.

"Stonehenge"

 

Summer solstice

Double-decker bus

Just in from Glastonbury- maybe Wimbledon

Parking lot crowded

Sightseers with

Audio phones pressed to their ears

Muted and servile, cattle-like, gawking 

Touching the ropes and signs that warn:

“Do.  Not.  Touch. The. Stones.”

The sandstone ring, the bluestone, the sarsen

Carved four thousand years ago and

Off limits to everyone but

The Druids.

********

Across Salisbury Plain

Lonely sound of wind

Whips 

Raven’s shadow circles close

Stone posts carved from boulders lugged in from Wales

Rise against the storm

Drums beat loud to Celtic tunes, caped figures dance,

The toes of the troubadour shoes point and curl,

Velvet hoods,  tall staffs, a single hand extended,

A gust moves the long beard of Merlin,

In the yellow sky a message: an incantation from the

Woman warrior with outstretched arm and the long

Red braid.

What is her prophesy?

 

********

Turn off the phone. The car. The lights.

Forget the tele.

Light a fire.

Circle round.

Beat the drum

at Stonehenge.

Call in the powers of North, South, East, West.

To Salisbury.

Listen closely.

Press your ears to the stones.

What do they have

to say?

 

~by Kat Shamash ©2019 Kat Shamash

Image "The Morrigu, Phantom of the Celts" by Howard David Johnson

 

"Stonehenge"

 

Summer solstice

Double-decker bus

Just in from Glastonbury- maybe Wimbledon

Parking lot crowded

Sightseers with

Audio phones pressed to their ears

Muted and servile, cattle-like, gawking 

Touching the ropes and signs that warn:

“Do.  Not.  Touch. The. Stones.”

The sandstone ring, the bluestone, the sarsen

Carved four thousand years ago and

Off limits to everyone but

The Druids.

********

Across Salisbury Plain

Lonely sound of wind

Whips 

Raven’s shadow circles close

Stone posts carved from boulders lugged in from Wales

Rise against the storm

Drums beat loud to Celtic tunes, caped figures dance,

The toes of the troubadour shoes point and curl,

Velvet hoods,  tall staffs, a single hand extended,

A gust moves the long beard of Merlin,

In the yellow sky a message: an incantation from the

Woman warrior with outstretched arm and the long

Red braid.

What is her prophesy?

 

********

Turn off the phone. The car. The lights.

Forget the tele.

Light a fire.

Circle round.

Beat the drum

at Stonehenge.

Call in the powers of North, South, East, West.

To Salisbury.

Listen closely.

Press your ears to the stones.

What do they have

to say?

 

~by Kat Shamash ©2019 Kat Shamash

Image "The Morrigu, Phantom of the Celts" by Howard David Johnson

 

"How to Practice Gratitude"

Day 1 of 30:  Our Global Poetry Writing Month 2019 ( #GloPoWriMo 2019) prompt for today is to write a poem that gives the reader instructions on how to do something.

"How to Practice Gratitude"

Close your eyes.

Hold the mango in your hands like a prayer for two long, delicious minutes
then
take a bite.

Hold the hand of a grandmother for a spell.
What does she say? What does she not say?

At midnight, in the dark, light a candle.
Remember the 13th century.

Find a stranger, a colleague, or a cousin --
Imagine, for a while, walking in her stilettos.

Listen to someone twice or three times or four times older than you.
Listen to someone twice or three times or four times younger than you.

Mine for sound.
Listen for something new in the meadow, the dark city, the tide.

Close your eyes.
Find new rhythms in hip-hop, jazz, the spoken word.

Say thanks to all things wing-ed:
The raven, the butterfly,
The plane, the angel.

Look long and tenderly at all that is within the walls of your home.
You live on an altar. It is sacred. 
In the street and in the forest, find the holy places.

Like a spider, think of gratitude as
a gathering in of
the exquisite and the necessary--
all of it suspended
on one thin and fragile net.

Look out the window.
Notice the transience in each ordinary thing.
Study the changes of the seasons.
Note the shift in the time of daybreak and sundown. Chart the movement of the storm cloud.
Honor the equinox.
Know the moon phases.

Notice it all and bless it.

Notice it all.

Notice it.

Notice.

 

~by Kat Shamash ©2019 Kat Shamash

Image "Moon at Night" ©2019 Kat Shamash  

 

 

 

Close your eyes.

Hold the mango in your hands like a prayer for two long, delicious minutes
then
take a bite.

Hold the hand of a grandmother for a spell.
What does she say? What does she not say?

At midnight, in the dark, light a candle.
Remember the 13th century.

Find a stranger, a colleague, or a cousin --
Imagine, for a while, walking in her stilettos.

Listen to someone twice or three times or four times older than you.
Listen to someone twice or three times or four times younger than you.

Mine for sound.
Listen for something new in the meadow, the dark city, the tide.

Close your eyes.
Find new rhythms in hip-hop, jazz, the spoken word.

Say thanks to all things wing-ed:
The raven, the butterfly,
The plane, the angel.

Look long and tenderly at all that is within the walls of your home.
You live on an altar. It is sacred. 
In the street and in the forest, find the holy places.

Like a spider, think of gratitude as
a gathering in of
the exquisite and the necessary--
all of it suspended
on one thin and fragile net.

Look out the window.
Notice the transience in each ordinary thing.
Study the changes of the seasons.
Note the shift in the time of daybreak and sundown. Chart the movement of the storm cloud.
Honor the equinox.
Know the moon phases.

Notice it all and bless it.

Notice it all.

Notice it.

Notice.

 

~by Kat Shamash ©2019 Kat Shamash

Image "Moon at Night" ©2019 Kat Shamash  

 

 

 

Taylor Mali: the importance of conviction

Rome: Prosecco, Espresso, Caffe Greco

We are not Caesar, and we avoided the Forum, so I can say with confidence that The Ides of March was by far our best day in Rome. After days of clouds and rain, the sun and the moon both showed their faces. We couldn’t seem to tear ourselves away from the Piazza de España and by dusk, we were still there, drinking prosecco at a café under moon clouds.

“How do we rearrange our lives to live in this magnificent city?” we ask ourselves. There’s something about Rome at night, especially under a waxing moon, that causes me to think that reinventing my life and steering it against all the plans that drive me forward is the most natural thing in the world to do. Here, in this city of fallen empires and lovers on Vespas, going against the current of one’s well-planned life seems possible, even wise. The words of Keats, once an expatriate in Rome,

Productivity

Getting things done is not the same as making things happen. (Take a moment to read the above list... so true!)

 

Currently, my days fall before me in a series of calendar charts as I attempt to finish graduate school projects. If I don't complete eight hours of work a day, then I tell myself that I can't go out at night. If I don't check off three assignments per day, then I tell myself I must finish four the next day. It's a way to psych myself into doing work that I really don't want to do: aka, getting things done.

 

True satisfaction, authentic fulfillment is "making things happen." Taking risks, setting ambitious goals, changing perception, and creating possibility is what I want, at the end of the week, to have accomplished.

 

The people I admire and the friends I want to spend time with are doing this with their lives. Here in Taos, Susan Powter is creating possibility for many women by offering training classes for getting strong and fit. Lenny Foster is doing what he loves by printing breath-taking photographs and showcasing them at Living Light Gallery. Allegra Huston is writing books (Love Child) and producing films (Good Luck Mr. Gorski)  and leading the creativity classes Imaginative Storm. Ted Wiard has used his grief to create places of healing at Golden Willow Retreat. The pastor of El Pueblito United Methodist Church, Steve Waird, is the director of the "The Shared Table",  the largest food pantry distribution in Taos County. As I learn to know these people, I realize that although getting things done is part of thier daily lives (after all, we all have chores and duties that must be accomplished), their vision expands outward to making possible that which has not yet been created.

 

I have not made any New Year's resolutions. I never do. However, I have set a few intentions. One of them is this: focus less on getting things done and more on making things happen.

"Remember the Deep Root of Your Being"

"The Deep Root of Your Being"

Bamboo Grove, The Hill Country, Maymyo, B.u.r.m.a., April 2009

photo by shamash

The truth of these words by my favorite 13th century Persian mystic cuts me to the core:

There is one thing in this world that you must never forget to do. If you forget everything else and not this, there's nothing to worry about, but if you remember everything else and forget this, then you will have done nothing in your life.

The Class that Ruined My Blog Life

Over the years blogging had taken me away from my spiral, hardbound notebooks, my multi-colored pens, my propensity to glue things (like ticket stubs, favorite articles, and paraphernalia found on bar counters, restaurants floors, and airplane seat pockets) into my journal . So, when I saw the Split Rock Arts Program offering the course called “The Visual Journal: Exploring Urban Landscape" taught by artist by Julie Baugnet (an artist featured in Drawing from Life by Jennifer New), I caught the first plane to the Twin Cities. I wasn’t disappointed.

(all photos by shamash)

Brave, Fearless Drawing Machines

What do a labor arbitrator, a radio personality, a teacher, an epidemiologist, a registered nurse, an education specialist, a bat expert, a physiology professor, and a defense lawyer for the Dept of Justice all have in common?

This past week, I found out. And, in the process, realized that much of that which unites us as human beings has little to do with our professions, and much to do with what we long to do after-hours.

Why Do People STILL Go to Museums?

"Art offers something else--depth, involvement, a new way of looking at the world that we live in, a fresh approach to what we take for granted, a chance to experience freedom of the imagination."
-Meredith Monk, composer, singer, director, choreographer

(image by René Magritte via artchive)

I regularly visit online museums all over the world. I take virtual tours of The Louvre.  (click here.)  The Metropolitan Museum of Art (click here) The Art Institute of Chicago. (click here.)

But the computer screen cannot replace the experience of visiting an art gallery or museum. Here’s why.