mind cataloging the shifting circumference
and significance
as sentiments deposit sediment
and their sands stretch wide and far,
and it feels i hear every footfall
until all i can hear is thunder
and still air …
Category: Mind-scape
Explorations of the realms of our mind. Novalis once said ‘the sciences should all be made poetic’. This is part of mind-scaping; processes of trying to see and understand complex theories and ideas through verse and imagery.
Mind-scape also includes exploration of the regions at the edges of the mind, at the edge of reason, the blurring of judgment and opening of chaos, seeking ways to transcend and live through fragility.
Children’s Uprising
“I’ve seen smarter cabinets in Ikea”
says a banner outside Westminster;
the young people are gathering
to reclaim their stolen futures,
their words, their actions: poetry,
Do Say
Do say, don’t abate,
unleash that sly stream of hate;
feign each injury
is just advise to cure me.
Healing Flower; a haibun
Rose petals spiral,
hushed open secrets wakeful,
each has power to sooth.
Clay and Sparks
Labyrinthine
Body carved of clay
Sparks within
Visioning
A way through this unknowing
Luminescent maze.
Antonia Sara Zenkevitch
Fog
thick fog descending,
fighting to find thoughts missing
in the throbbing swam.
Dark Matter
it bends my light;
stretches me
as universe implodes
slowly
Time, Light and The Artist
…Time is our collaborator and our adversary as artists. Authors bend the passage of time in story arcs, suspense, and romantic timing. Comedians craft the pace of words and motion into jokes. Cinematographers and film directors focus our perceptions with the length of each shot, our mind lingering where the camera points. Painters decide where shadows fall. All art has its own relationship with the ticking clock and the Earth’s rotation around the sun….
To Sweeten Bitter
Pain tasted bitter,
So, breath’s blades and sugar-canes
Spun honeyed braids of auric air.
The Scent of a Story
I’ve always found one of the best environments for telling stories is around a campfire. For me it is more than the images in the flickering flame; it’s the smell of woodsmoke and that hiss of resistance before the crackle as the fire leaps. Above us is the sight of stars, around us is the…
Antonia Sara Zenkevitch 