Fugue in 3/4

Painting by Mikalojus Konstantinas Čiurlionis

Dry smiling
_____________On waterlogged terrain
when you’re not
_______Listening to baroque bones:
is a lie
____________Rococo and euphemized
___________Mirrored, distanced tones
I will be
___________________Treble and bass
the last to leave
_________  This symbiotic masterpiece,
this plane crash
_______________Purgatorial Middle C
_____________An ascension interstice
I refuse
______________  Brothers and Sisters,
to hold onto
________________To deem inviolable
my privilege
_______________A seat on the life raft
____Is well-tempered class struggle

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Culture


Our orchids and African violets

Wither before sundown

Of a row of summer’s brussels sprouts 

We got a measly one

But the mold in the new kombucha batch 

Has more equity than we do

And did I just hear voices from the compost

Recite the Nicene credo?

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©2018, Amaya Engleking

Written on a whim for dVerse guest, Walter Marks’ prompt on humor from our real lives. Hey, it’s not that I don’t have a green thumb; I just need to tame it!

Rainstorm

Photography by Justin Dodson

When we sat on the chalk cliffs overlooking the Timberron basin and lightning in the indigo sky, it started to rain hard, though far from camp with one poncho between us. It threatened to wash away our ground but somehow, Read More

Sky

Vail pass one dusk in 2006 on the way west to raft the Colorado River, Westwater.

Pacific Beach, San Diego, 2006


Joshua Tree mothership, 2007


Ghosts of Turfan, 2009


Wisdom of the Rock, rafting the Colorado River, Grand Canyon, 2009


Sunbathing Spruce, Jenny Lake and Tetons, 2015


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©2006-2015, Amaya Engleking 

What the Young Man Said in the Stairwell

Chongqing, China

The thought of having to be around people is cause for anxiety and Joshua says that’s probably a motherly instinct. People are usually either trying to get you to glorify the past or expound on a future one can’t possibly know. It may even be blaspheming to try. Mothers of newborns must be present and attentive constantly, with very little room for error. No, I don’t know where I’m going to call home in three months, and it’s not my concern. God knows. But they who worship the god of security don’t even know how to hear this, let alone accept my decision to trust.

Yesterday I realized it was the tenth anniversary of the 2008 Sichuan earthquake. On that day I was working in the tallest building in Chongqing, a metropolis 300 miles from the epicenter. As I was teaching a class on the 15th floor, I felt the whole classroom start to sway. Read More

Poetry Prompt: Building Bridges 

Painting by Karen Tarlton


There’s a fun poetry prompt open over at dVerse and they’re looking for more poets to join in and share their work/engineering feats. Basically, choose two quotes from different sources (novels, poetry, children’s, genre, etc.) and use one quote for your poem’s opening and the other for the closing, then write your poem filling in the space, bridging the two ideas. (You can read my contribution, 360.) The prompt will be open until this Saturday, May 12, 1pm RMT. I hope you’ll join in! 

360

Painting by Zdzisław Beksiński

“Those who do not weep, do not see.”*
Blooms beget bombs,
hope and horror in one vignette of existence
and the next
and the next
our little cherubs grow up to detonate
affix credit scores to souls and kill for food
the film reel revolves and I watch dry-eyed paralyzed Read More

Intrigued

Painting by Angela Moulton

Driving home with Taj Mahal barely on the stereo, as the sound of the southern valley wind through cracked windows was blasting in my ears, I rounded a curve on the descent into town and very clearly heard a call of the Western meadowlark to the east, then once again in the brush to the north. Was it possible for the birdsong to drift above the currents of the strong wind and make itself heard to this passing vessel? Perhaps, if only to drive home the lesson Read More

The Chosen Ones

Painting by Nick Andrew

Gripping wind’s reins
We weren’t supposed to love the wildness or poverty
or make a home of spruce boughs and the raw provisions of the wilderness
Set on eagle’s wings
We were supposed to taste manna as survival food, juniper berries, rich in bitters and ascorbate
Our dependence on your creation should have been a passing lesson
as we fled one oppressor to the next Read More