san francisco peace and hope

Chapter 1: PEACE AND HOPE
"There are moments in a day, when we seem to see beyond the usual." Robert Henri

DROPLET

The day
drains ...
emptied into canyon
of eternity,
leaving its tang,
lending its hue -
one more drop to flavor
lifetime´s brew.

Lark Burns de Beltran



Jeannie Motherwell, Night Rhythms, 2014, Acrylic on canvas on board © Copyright Jeannie Motherwell


KITCHEN FLOOR

The poet
tries to pick up
a flake of moonlight.

Only one time
in four does it
linger in her hand.

© Claire J. Baker


RED CURRENT

Wet
Shining
Spinning
Sun-sculpted shadows
My open hands close
To still the spin
Split the skin
Read the seeds
Taste on my tongue
An emerging moon
A mind still in shadow
my open hands
Wet
Shining
Spinning.

James Watts

 

ON EARTH

Let's haul in the nets cast into the ice
for the river's harvest.
Most of us only ever have a slice
of Earth's wedding breakfast.

Coho are gone. Now's the season to climb
back into our dens
for a kiss on slow Sunday half-times,
a moment of Zen—

curled deep inside and warmed by sun.
Nothing fancy: the scent
of baked cheese wafting in, of cinnamon,
nutmeg and mint.

There may been be second helpings
from Earth's well-stocked pantry
on rough-hewn, wooden platters come the Spring,
that is, if we're lucky.

Zara Raab

Squeak Carnwath, Fly, Flight, Fugit, 1999, Porcelain enamel on steel panels


How I remembered you best:


Shuffling around the kitchen
Searching cabinets of sauces
and the refrigerator door to dig for
Treasure smelling of ginger.

Kimberly Lieu

 

Perfection

Out of imperfection
the old skeptic…
Shall I advocate for you before God,
common creative mind?!
Necessarily we write down,
For the comfort, not to succumb.
For hours before the end,
soften by the wine
French wine, Pinot Noir-Maison Blanche,
danced the last tango
Does it mean anything to you
The battle of frightened thoughts,
Breaking into pieces
In the east of history!
You had something to learn,
Today your look is blunt, empty!
The insect will survive
Wriggling by the widow!
You seem crestfallen.
Loneliness will preserve you
With the one you are.
The picture will outlast you.
Visual trauma.
The far east
Light and shadows
Birds in the flock
The ships and the sailing
Inevitable and foreseen…
The magic of traveling
To the inner harmony!
The girl's neck
Beauty from the darkness!!!

Tatjana Debeljački


POEM WITH ORANGE

Finally you sit
at some table and put
your little life back
together again by
slicing a new orange

How closely the wet
glistening flesh of
this bright cut fruit
resembles all galaxies

How comfortably its
sweet pattern fits yours
as you watch each matching
diamond-juiced wedge
reaching, edging toward,
essence, the center, home

Al Young, HEAVEN, Collected Poems 1956 -1990, Copyright © 2008 by Al Young

Melissa Wood, Figs, Pears with Terrapin and Butterfly in Marseille ©2008, Mixed media on canvas


CLEARLY, THE FIRST DAY OF THE NOT YET FULLY-ARRIVED SEASON

Gate unlatched   either direction permissible
to the unexpected.   The woman, so good
at sitting, represents all of us in stolen weather.

Soft gray-green   a dash of rose
here/there  time amalgamates
pastels, though inherently lush.

Make up a story  –

lost earring

granddaughter too far away to counsel

perhaps, the woman simply wants sun
to pool her arms  extend to fingers
which have held the cold far too long.

Beginnings are a basket of plenty.

Kit Kennedy


IN THIS ROOM FULL OF MIRRORS WHERE IT ALL LOOKS FAMILIAR

The afternoon longs to burn off--

Packages carelessly tied could disappear

And the message which said: meet me on Sansome

At the grey building we used to frequent--

The rooftop garden with its two-year growth

Reflects some remembered ache

But the rain that got here at last

Left the words like trees, shaking

Susan Gangel

Peace and Hope

“I saw the spirit descend as a dove from heaven, and it remained. . . “ John 1:32

Peace: 
The soul never shakes
loose from the altar the accessible heart. 
You are the sun upon upturned faces
and gentle rain upon wilted petals. 
Drink the rain of love upon the soil of your soul
and await your seeds.  These drops of love: 
plenty enough for every desert flower. 
Hope: 
While you talked I worked on a snag
and tried to tie a knot to stop the unravel. 
Peace and Hope: 
I don’t need alcohol to kiss you. 
One candle is enough. 
In the loose limbo of love there is no choice. 
We breathe the same air. 
Impermanence does not matter. 
We are here. 
We all have a holy place in the mosaic. 
Mine is next to you. 
                                                            
Jane Green



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