Saturday, April 29, 2017

POETS OF MYTHOPOETRY: BRIAN LANDIS Two Poems #guestpost #mythopoetry #NationalPoetryMonth 2017
























TWO POEMS


EL RANCHO GRANDE


Avocado trees planted in rows
       walnuts and grapes
In the arroyo, pampas grass
       as if trilled or plucked
A chord of pampas grass
singing down the breezy caƱon
       to the sparkling sea
Two dogs in the sideyard
       barking
A lazy cat opens one golden eye

©2017 El Rancho Grande Brian Landis mythopoetry.com
©2017 El Rancho Grande Brian Landis All Rights Retained


FAMOUS PEOPLE


Pablo Picasso
          sits with Jean Cocteau
          praising miracles
(not life, which is common).
They drink espresso
          and eat Italian pastries.
"God," Jean philosophizes,
"judges us by our appearances
          and is the ultimate idiot."
Pablo paints God's portrait
          and is the ultimate idiot.
Idiocy is relative.
Albert Einstein, at the next table
          scribbles in the margin
          of his New York Times:
                   "Relativity is next to godliness"
He signs his name.
He leaves it on the table
          for the waiter to see.
(If you don't promote your own work,
          who will?)


©2017 Famous People Brian Landis mythopoetry.com
©2017 Brian Landis Famous People All Rights Retained




ABOUT THE AUTHOR


Brian Landis is a Buddhist/Jungian psychotherapist, because poetry is a very bad way to make a living, living and working in San Luis Obispo, California.  As the years unfold, he looks more and more like his beloved arroyos and potreros, wild and unkempt.  He likes it that way and is ecstatic to be going to seed after a lifetime of bloom.

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Friday, April 28, 2017

POETS OF MYTHOPOETRY: LINDA SUDDARTH : Three Poems #mythopoetry #guestpost #NationalPoetryMonth 2017

























THREE POEMS


CURIOUS AND RICH


When I walk past
the fragrant forest
after heavy rain,
which smells like
the freshest salad
you ever ate,
some vegetation
from Otherworld
that when eaten
makes you feel alive,

then I listen, listen
and there is
nothing, nothing but.

When it is almost dusk
and the horizon is tinged
with the most delicate
hint of lavender,
against it dark
silhouettes of tiny
fruit-tree branches,

I listen, listen
there is nothing, nothing but.

When I pass the small mountain
rising like a god
impressing the night
and the still liquid sky,

I listen, listen
and there is nothing, nothing.

But nothing is something
curious and rich,
and I have heard it.


©2017 Curious And Rich Linda Suddarth
 mythopoetry.com

©2017 Curious And Rich
Linda Suddarth All Rights Retained

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT


“Curious and Rich,” Featured poem for Parabola Online, Summer 2014


BORROWED FOREST, RENTED THICKET

My comfort falls on deaf ears.
Though you are only volunteers,
comical encroaching
forest with your odd smells:
sweet, tangy mid-spring,
hints of honeysuckle, cedar,
thyme, vinegar, rose, float,
don’t you know tomorrow
will be the back-hoe,
saws, bulldozers,
and your lovely thickets
will be undone?
Strange tiny flowers, like bells
and purple prehistoric shaped,
beside the poke berry
monster, decorated
with pieces of old fence.
You’re not sad?
Little birds, find other nests.
Yesterday when the crow
sat eating your young
on the telephone wire,
stolen from you,
and from the maple,
didn’t you see
that was a sign to scatter?
Yet you still sing,
sitting in the tree
that will be gone tomorrow.
The maple who has given
much shade and color
isn’t sad either. She
is giving me strength.
In my heart,
borrowed forest, rented thicket,
you are forever,
many and varied shades of green,
and ever joyous in your singing.
Someday I’ll put some money
down and buy some wild place:
let it be what it is.


©2017 Borrowed Forest, Rented Thicket Linda Suddarth
mythopoetry.com

©2017 Borrowed Forest, Rented Thicket
Linda Suddarth All Rights Retained




HAPPY OTHER PLACE



With every rain the woods
grow another foot,
on the breeze
rose and honeysuckle
faintly permeate
the corners of the sky.
In the far-seeing
of distance is
the blue of mountain
through the tree tops:
the mountain that looks
down on all of us.
I’ve been there,
these are the apple groves
up on top of the blue.
One fall we sat
under an apple tree,
spread a blanket
and ate apple pie,
while the bees
resembled angels
singing all in harmony.
People strolled in a daze
with apple nets
in their hands,
collecting the harvest
in this happy
other-place.
©2017 Happy Other Place Linda Suddarth
mythopoetry.com

©2017 Happy Other Place
Linda Suddarth All Rights Retained



ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS


First publication of the poem, HAPPY OTHER PLACE occurs April 15, 2017 on Linda's blog, LINDA WORD AND IMAGE


ABOUT THE AUTHOR



Linda Ann Suddarth sees the creative life as a vital expression of the psyche. Linda has been writing poetry and drawing/painting for more than thirty years. She has recently published poems in Parabola, Silver Birch Press, Anima, and Red River Review. Linda has a BFA in painting, an interdisciplinary MA in Aesthetic Studies, and a PhD in Mythological Studies with an emphasis in Depth Psychology. She teaches English, Art, and Humanities at the College level. Linda’s blog is www.lindawordandimage.blogspot.com, and she can be reached at linsudd (at) aol (dot) com.


VISIT LINDA ON FACEBOOK AT


LINDA SUDDARTH POETRY AND ART


LINDA'S BLOG


LINDA WORD AND IMAGE


Wednesday, April 26, 2017

POETS OF MYTHOPOETRY: PHILIP ROSENBERG: RAGS AND BONES MUSIC VIDEO: THESE BONES and A Poetry Reading of "The Way I Love You" #mythopoetry #guestpost #NationalPoetryMonth 2017

featuring Philip Rosenberg / RAGS AND BONES

























A MUSIC VIDEO AND A POETRY READING




THESE BONES





©2017 Philip Rosenberg, Rags And Bones Music All Rights Retained


POETRY READING OF THE POEM "THE WAY I LOVE YOU"







© 2017 Philip Rosenberg, All Rights Retained


ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

"The Way I Love You" is published in the book Raised In The Shadow: A Collection of Twenty-five Poems by Philip Rosenberg, Sunland Press, 2007.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR


Rags & Bones
The foul rag and bone shop of the heart,” Yeats called it – that repository of musings, detritus and discarded emotions out of which we assemble art.  Songwriter-poet Phillip Rosenberg, performing under the name Rags and Bones, has spent a lifetime sifting through the leftover parts of the world and himself to try and create an archival record.  At 70, he feels like he may be getting close. In 2008 he left Nashville for the People's Republic of Joshua Tree where he hones his craft, teaches guitar, plays for the lunch crowd at the JT Saloon, writes poetry, and organizes the monthly Songwriters in the Round at the Beatnik Lounge.


VISIT WITH THE MUSIC OF PHILIP ROSENBERG'S RAGS AND BONES


https://www.ragsandbonesmusic.com/