"dazzle gradually"

"Dazzle Gradually" 2016 poems, paintings, new art & photography--a diary, a discipline, a delight. Read over my shoulder as I post my unedited poetry ---you can see it in the raw.


Polly Alice

Friday, May 21, 2010

Blue Jay--not another bird poem

I've found that having morning sickness day and night for weeks on end, is the best way to ensure I have no poetic thoughts at all.  And the tenth poem composed about birds in my back yard--in rhyme--really can't be written here for the sake of my own pride.  So that leaves me with nothing for blog readers to read.
Digging down into an old poetry journal, I've found this gem and expanded it for you.

They look like little diamond-shaped leaves to you.
I know they are eggplants-- baby egg plants.
In the stiff invisible air
they tremble in plastic yogert cups
and styrofoam cases
with an eggplant fantasy
you and I can
only
imagine.

Sunday, May 16, 2010

My Seoul is dying

My Seoul is dying,
I don’t know why.
I put it in a little bowl
I’ve fed it everything I know,
but my Seoul is dying.

I tried salt water, spring,
distilled, and those little drops
which are supposed to help,
but my Seoul is dying.

I tried gold fish food,
dried pieces of shrimp,
exotic fish pellets,
and little chips,
but my Seoul is dying.

I tried a bigger bowl,
a ceramic castle,
and a live sea snail,
but my Seoul is dying.

I tried Christian music,
and rock ‘n roll,
but my Seoul is dying.

I told him I loved ‘im
and I started crying,
but my Seoul is dying.

If you got any directions
on how to take care of a Seoul,
let me know,
‘cause . . .

Monday, May 3, 2010

Houseplant

Houses must be planted carefully
in the soil to grow.
Planted so that the water will flow
from roof to gutter
and gutter to lawn
the water must travel down,
--never collect on--
the ground near the foundation
or soak into the basement.
No house likes to sit and stew
or brew in water with fuzzy green moss,
they need proper drainage
just like flowers and crops,
and that is why in just an hour
the landscapers are coming
to grade my soil,
with a bobcat digger
but hopefully nothing bigger
then the little yellow house
will not sit and boil,
but gently bask
in the gentle spring sun
as her rain water runs properly
the way water should run.

Angel Seed

Seed of Fire is the name of my second book of poetry.  This work in progress has only begun to incubate, but the title explains why readers may be thinking, "Doesn't she ever write about anything other than seeds?"

Angel Seed

A mapel seed with wings
lazily swings.
a spinny zig-zag flight.
landing gently, nose down tight.
An arrow rightly placed just so,
could not take better aim to sprout and grow.
A million flew down this hour,
suburban Silver Maple power shower,
like yellow manna from the sky
I can't help but wonder why
I couldn't just snack on a few
like my red squirrel friends do..
They sure look sweet and tasty...
eww.