Saturday, December 22, 2012

A Star For Ben

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Loss breathes its mist
   On me
Heavy with tears
   Salted in pain’s brine
A taste accilimated

   But not today
Today they lie in bitter harvest
   Upon eyes and ears
Under tongues

Longing to turn back the clock
   To a time before
When Christmas lay around the corner
   And those gifts
 Already wrapped
And hidden
Could be the reality

For you
We bought a star
And placed it just so
Upon the horizon
Of the early night’s sky
So that each evening
You can look upon each other
With light.


For Ben. A group of us collected money to pay for funeral expenses for Ben Wheeler of Newtown. We also bought a star for Ben's parents. I hope that all these families will be able to find peace and light.

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2012
Shared with dVerse Poets Poetics: Presents/Presence

Friday, December 21, 2012

Particulate Matter

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Image réalisée avec le logiciel Chaoscope (freeware);attracteur IFS.

Particulate matter
Of density uncertain
Packs its way
Into others' negative space
Exploding in time
Negating its influence
Pulling at density
Creating its sound
A kind of horrific rush

But present nonetheless
As it moves
Toward wave

I dance upon the string
(all mistakes in science are strictly my own)
I dance.

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2012

Posted for the Toads Open Link Monday

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

With Gratitude

Ellen Wilson
Poets United

Today, Ellen at  Poets United Wonder Wednesday #14 charges us with posting on our blogs, a poem that we felt was a gift. I am most profoundly grateful today. My daughter was released from the hospital last night and  is doing better. This poem by e.e. cummings was read at my wedding and I thought of it again today.

With gratitude

i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes
(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday;this is the birth
day of life and love and wings:and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)
how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any-lifted from the no
of all nothing-human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?
(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)
~ e.e. cummings ~
(Complete Poems 1904-1962)

I added one more piece by Laura Hegfield, called Is It Stealing. This piece came to me at a time when I needed to see light and she gave it to me. I have posted it here, but her blog is really beautiful, so please check it out.

Is it stealing God is it stealing?
Crouching down then half kneeling,
one worn denim knee nesting on wintering
weeds gone gold in the fleeting sun o’er a farmer’s
fallow field.
Is it stealing?

Hungrily taking photos
attempts my heart knows are folly,
capturing time through a lens,
digital morsels marking the majesty of a single moment,
then another,
and another.
Nourishing my soul as I feast upon Your bounty,

Is it stealing?

Is it blessing?

Pausing to see with ready attention beauty dying
before my eyes as light departs.  
Observing the luminous globe sinking into the horizon,
sky ribboned lavender, heather, cornflower, fading blue
tears wet joy glide down iced cheeks,
feeling full satisfaction simply, (simply?)
witnessing the wonder of it all.

This act of narrowing expansive awareness into
images that if printed will decay
or stored virtually as pixels will likely be
long after the wild grasses have crumbled
the seeds swaddled in soft soil
birthed and re-birthed,
surely more seasons
than I shall live.

Is it blessing God is it blessing?
Crouching down then half kneeling,
one worn denim knee nesting on wintering
weeds gone gold in the fleeting sun o’er a farmer's
fallow field.
Is it blessing?

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Waiting, Day 5

wikimedia commons
Jessie Eastland aka Robert DeMeo, 2012

a haze of dream
   built upon
confederate sky
   a blister of cloud
hanging by

as dream illumines
   a silvered moment
encapsulated entirely
   by sered husk
of ageless smiles
blooming toward dawn

the expanse of sky
holds me riveted
a moment passes too soon

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2012

Posted for dVerse Open Link Night   Dverse

My daughter has Dengue Fever on a small island in Thailand.  She was hospitalized yesterday. So I wait and pray as I look at the sky

Sunday, December 16, 2012

Dengue and the Wait

i wait to hear
that the critical time has passed
that this disease which ravages you
will not kill you
that you will survive
and organs will not bleed out
will not fail you

and i take comfort in small things
the mist of steam punctuated
with the sweetness of a scent of spiced tea
from your childhood
it’s warmth as i hold a cup in my hands
your humor as we trade emoticons across an ocean

i count on the fact that you are young and strong
and that this fever cannot decimate you
and i watch  the clock as it ticks by
one more day before the critical phase passes

i would bring you home if i could
i would wrap you in my arms
and tell you stories of sunshine and laughter
of how your dog still misses you in the night
i would dream with you

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2012

My daughter is in Thailand with Dengue Fever right now. Right now, she is in the critical phase of the disease. Dengue is on the rise worldwide and is called the "bone crushing" disease. There is no immunization and no specific treatment for the disease other than liquids.

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

A Slate of Blue

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Benjamin Gimmel
Sonne hinter Pflanze

   slate of blue

a feeding upon
     the fastidiousness

of sky
     a promise held

in abeyance
     as winter blooms

and dreams
     lie buried

along with grubs
     to await the thaw

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2012

Thursday, December 6, 2012

Dapple Me Babe

"Kirche Gröben" (big church), Brandenburg, Germany. Light travels through window.
Lienhard Schulz
Wikimedia commons

The sun inched out today after five days of rain
bursting light everywhere
even underneath
and I felt my mood lighten
and joy crept in where tears had furrowed their rows earlier
and love opened its doors wide
and I stepped inside

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2012

Sunday, December 2, 2012


Object to be Destroyed by Man Ray
from Tess at Magpie Tales

Wagging finger of righteous indignation at incessant failures
Beating time in triumph
Your precision a mark in the annuls of marked seconds
A moment of suspended legato
We begin again.

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2012

posted for  The Mag #145

Urban Rain

vor der Haustür
Wassertropfen / Regentropfen / Wasser / Natur / Blatt / Tropfen / Makro / Regen
zur freien Verfügung
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Silent rain
A mist over concrete
Cools the heat of friction
And asphalt releases
Its steam
To be reabsorbed

A cloud
A vapor
A mist
To blur signage

As I look
Face upturned
The silent rain caressing lid and lash
Brushing lip
Reminds me
That I could be anywhere,
A vale
A moor
A valley
Where the kiss of nature’s
Tears meet earth
Renouncing summer’s heat
Quenching thirst
I open my eyes

To the concrete
And feel nature’s cooling
Her language
Even here
She has found her way.

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2012

Posted to Poets United Pantry #126

Sunday, November 25, 2012

Time's Promise

i have held your thoughts
your dreams and visions
deep in sensate simplicity
a vessel of time’s promise
no portal has resonated
more deeply
with this soul’s intensity
of vision
a moment
lost in memory
imprinted upon vines of neuron pathways
lining walls of plaqued halls
a movement toward
a glimpse withheld
a passing harmony
of keys touched
of passages unconsciously maintained
vines dried
tendrils curl now
upon a vision
no longer visible.

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2012

posted for  The Mag #145

The Colors of Words

Lowell Boyers
Immoveable 1 (Open Eyed)
textures of meaning and mindful expansion of the perceptual self

blended dreams
striations of impasto
fill cracks in my psyche
until a universe is created
    to withstand
the blitzkrieg of time’s clucking moments
a peck here
a movement there
a fable created
out of dyes and oils
the pointed connectors of color
binding nuance to canvas
a word to a page

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2012

Shared with Poets United Poetry Pantry 

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

I Write Fish Home

I write fish home,
knowing their journey perilous,
pebbled with the danger of maw and man.

I write them home
to creek and stream,
to bear and net,
 to spawn again.

I write them home
to complete the cycle,
to nurture instinct,
and to validate visions
held by ancestors
worried in graves
unmarked by man’s eager hand.

I write them home because someone must
and because song is insufficient.

I write them home,
to turn toward the sun
and say I have done my part.

I write fish home. 

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2012

posted for Dverse

Friday, November 16, 2012

My NaNoWriMo Month

If you are here and I am not
Let me assure you that
I will return,
I sit with story and plot
pulsing inside my feverish brow
as fingers move, often too fast
across keys that unfold
a novel before my eyes

poetry is the whisper of the wind in my ear.
a novel is giving birth.
That is the truth my writing friends.

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

The Status Quo

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Never have we spent so much
in any campaign
to maintain
the Status Quo.

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2012

 for the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads prompt of telling who won the election in 20 words or less 

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

3 acts, curtain

File:Benjamin van der Gucht - Henry Woodward as Petruchio in Catherine and Petruchio, a version by Garrick of "The Taming of the S... - Google Art Project.jpg
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Benjamin van der Gucht 
Henry Woodward as Petruchio in Catherine and Petruchio, a version by Garrick of "The Taming of the Shrew"

Pensive illusion
you speak
in riddles
in rhymes
without alliterative tension
mucking up meter or rhythm
or lodging
too hard
inside the meaning of metaphor.

Rather, you hold meaning

a sphere
a bit of terminous
to blow on the gentlest breeze
to find home
in the suspension of reality
for 3 acts,
then curtain.

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2012

Monday, October 29, 2012

Magical Lives

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Démons et Merveilles (E.Brasey)
Edward Reginald Frampton (1872-1923)
in the Public Domain in the United States

we think we see them as we pass by 
a man, a woman, a child, a crone
tenderly touching their dog or cat
watching us

a frank stare
a brutal glance
a head bumps up to meet powerful fingers
a pat, a scratch
a thought

did we think their thoughts unable to bind
to shrink wrap the denizens of imps
and place them in our pockets
as we pass

we think we see them
we think

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2012

Posted for OpenLinkNight - Imaginary Garden with Real Toads

Friday, October 26, 2012

Pitching a Bitch

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Romy Llano, 2012
 Danger will robinson! No texting while driving! a flow for a proposed IVR - voice app at the Wikipedia Hackathon 2012 in San Francisco

either drive or
do the cell thing
not both

don’t see me over here
do ya

so busy

can’t hear me over here
as I honk my horn

don’tcha know about lanes

I am supposed to be here
and you are supposed to be there

but you cross over
as you txt
“c u soon”
maybe one of us won’t be

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2012

Shared with With Real Toads Mary’s Mixed Bag: Pet Peeves

Thank you Mary ----

Sunday, October 21, 2012

Wisdom's Heart

Seek me not for I am lost to you.
I visit those tender places of the heart
where the hungry fill streets
with cries unheeded,
and where the dying tilt their heads
to listen for my approach.

In compassion, I see them,
those you have forgotten.
In empathy, I hold them,
those you have forgotten.
In hope, I touch each one,
as I touch you,
until you too, remember.

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2012
written for Magpie Tales 140

The Salve of Darkness

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 '''Darkness Over Eden''' Photo taken by Kabir Bakie May 2004 

Darkness spills itself into corners
hides my sins
beneath papered tunes
it pours behind knees
invading that crease in my pants
and the light
switched on
only lengthens
the shadows left behind
my japing thoughts
they embarrass me
so I switch off the light
and let the darkness
wend its way
across pillows and cushions
finding its comfort.

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2012

Shared with Poets United Poetry Pantry