My thanks to Michael McClintock, editor of the Tanka Café in Ribbons, the Journal of the Tanka Society of America. The prompt was poems of spring and summer. Here is mine:

My thanks to Michael McClintock, editor of the Tanka Café in Ribbons, the Journal of the Tanka Society of America. The prompt was poems of spring and summer. Here is mine:

I love Georgia O’Keefe’s quirky paintings and perspective. She did a lot of work using skulls, which seems quite natural. New Mexico must yield all sorts of bones in the mountains and deserts. Just as she studied and painted flowers, so she did the same with animal bones and skulls. She was very prolific in her work, painting a skull or pelvis in many views, often accompanied by a flower or other desert item. Many didn’t like her bone paintings, but that didn’t deter her in the slightest. Even her husband, photographer Alfred Stieglitz, was initially critical of them. He later relented, as did most critics. To find beauty in death and decomposition and to create art that is somehow mesmerizing and thoughtful is quite an accomplishment.
This poem is from my chapbook (Erasing the Doubt (c) 2015, Finishing Line Press). It is hidden amongst just a few of these wonderful paintings.

Georgia O’Keefe and cow skull

Bob’s Steer Head by Georgia O’Keefe (c) 1936

Cow’s Skull with Calico Roses by Georgia O’Keefe (c) 1931
On Viewing a Skull Painting by Georgia O’Keeffe
- The Artist’s View of the Skull as Form
The sinuous curve
hollowed circle
smooth chalky bone
worn smooth, it goes
beyond the form
behind the slow dip
of the arching eye
twisting and curving
back on itself
2. The Skull’s Perspective
At first it all felt wrong,
reversed, bent forward
in a geometric embrace
of mass and space,
the brush stroke
through the hollow eye
that will never see,
beyond to the delicate shell
of the brain
that will never again think,
moving slowly
into that shadow of light
the sky insinuates itself in color
and it is there
that you alone can wander,
deep inside the form that is me

Georgia O’Keeffe, Ram’s Skull with Hollyhock, (c) 1935

Deer’s Skull with Pedernal by Georgia O’Keefe (c) 1936

Campanula sp, Blue Bellflower. – Watercolour by Greta Mulligan (Australia)


This haiga appeared on Daily Haiga on March 23, 2016. I would like to thank my dear friend, Sheppy Vann, for allowing me to use her beautiful photograph for this piece.
Here is the link to the original: http://www.dailyhaiga.org/haiga-archives/1805/-fall-s-footrpints-by-mary-kendall-usa

What a joy it is to open a journal–online or in print–and find your own work included among poems by poets you admire greatly. March 1st has been a special day since several wonderful publications all appeared on the same day. I’ll post separately for each journal, since I am hoping that you will go directly to the journal and read the work of the other poets that are included.
The first one is a very lovely journal, Wild Plum – a haiku journal, edited by Gabriel Sawicki who lives in Poland. This is volume 2, issue 1. https://wildplumhaiku.wordpress.com
A feature I love is that the new isssue downloads as a pdf file to enjoy now as well as later: https://wildplumhaiku.files.wordpress.com/2016/02/wild-plum-spring-summer-2016.pdf
I have two pieces included in this issue:
The first is a haiku on page 45:

and the second piece is a Haiga (page 11) using a photo I took from our flat in London looking out at the twilight sky of Bedford Square Gardens:

I hope readers will come to realize that meditation is very natural and we often do it without trying, especially at times such as studying a beautiful sky and clouds. Those moments are very centering, and you find yourself breathing more slowly and feeling more relaxed. I hope my Haiga conveys that to you.


Photograph (c) 2010 by Patti Chronert
Another Love Poem…
If you’d like to hear me read this poem, please click on the link below. Wait a few seconds for it to load. I hope you enjoy both listening and reading this love poem.
Another Love Poem…
~ To my husband and partner of forty years ~
We walked along in the Tuileries
alone among the chestnut trees,
morning sky of crisp pale gold
so many paths we have strolled,
and still we wander, just us two,
my heart never very far from you.
We stop to sit and watch the birds
green park chairs, unspoken words,
plain sparrows chirp, so unadorned
no beauty lost, no beauty mourned.
Simple thoughts are often most true—
no man was ever loved more than you.

Heart Stone by Mary Kendall