Colors of Time

merrildsmith's avatarYesterday and today: Merril's historical musings

Monday Morning Musings:

Another Tree Spirit

Follow the shadows
through dreams colored with deep-time
longing. The seeds nested, specks
of hope, driven by time—
unleashed cycles, harmonic notes

star-born melodies
heard without, but held within
blood, skin, and organs—dust of
ancient incandescence
infinite shades of light from yesterday

merge with tomorrow
harmony and dissonance,
my parents speak in dream-time
enrooted in my mind
and heart, we are united

as midnight blue shifts
to violet, then golden
blaze, an ageless song of light
captured, remembered as
it passes, every color

in time, of time, time-
charged, time-changed by shifts of chance,
a crash, a brief encounter,
a prism of color
light reborn, transformed, transcendent.

The rising sun captured in a bottle.

I didn’t go anywhere this week or do anything special, but the changing temperatures and weather have made for some incredible skies. Influenced by Jane Dougherty, I decided to try…

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Listen, Recall

merrildsmith's avatarYesterday and today: Merril's historical musings

Odilon Redon, Orpheus

In early morning hush,
the moon sings farewell,
gelid murmured notes
through white cat-paw clouds

if you listen, recall
light recalls time recalls light,
the ancient ships of night seas
ask when
ask what
you want
from the whispers and pulses
of mother music from earth and sky,

the fiddle, flute, and drums of
wind-beats and tree rustle,
the cardinal chirps and crow caws,
black on red on blue and green, every color
a promise, a warning
of what is and what was.

My poem from the Magnetic Poetry Oracle.

Ingrid at Experiments in Fiction is hosting a Global Assembly on Climate Change. Read more about it here.

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Listen, Recall

merrildsmith's avatarYesterday and today: Merril's historical musings

Odilon Redon, Orpheus

In early morning hush,
the moon sings farewell,
gelid murmured notes
through white cat-paw clouds

if you listen, recall
light recalls time recalls light,
the ancient ships of night seas
ask when
ask what
you want
from the whispers and pulses
of mother music from earth and sky,

the fiddle, flute, and drums of
wind-beats and tree rustle,
the cardinal chirps and crow caws,
black on red on blue and green, every color
a promise, a warning
of what is and what was.

My poem from the Magnetic Poetry Oracle.

Ingrid at Experiments in Fiction is hosting a Global Assembly on Climate Change. Read more about it here.

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A Universe of Ghosts and Words

merrildsmith's avatarYesterday and today: Merril's historical musings

Monday Morning Musings:

Ducks swim through sunrise clouds.

Apparitions slip
between worlds, linger like words–
the spoken and unsaid–each
waiting to be seen, heard,
read and remembered, infinite

combinations, in
every language, past, future
meld in the timeless sea where
yesterday’s twinkling light
haunts and comforts. Does tomorrow

on the horizon
give a straight-lined smile? Or false
the glimmer of hope? Sound and
fury—nothing or all?
Candles burn bright, yet mimic stars.

The light comes again
reverberations, colored
by space-time meandering
carrying messages
in microscopic dust missives.

Early Morning Reflections

Evening Snowfall

Now, winter’s blanket
lays etched with sharp lettering–
yet beneath, cursive tendrils
wait to write new stories
spirits and words hover, beckon

with endless stories,
whole books, unfinished chapters
brief verses, epic sagas,
chronicles and reports.
The universe shouts and whispers.

Sunrise!

I decided to try a wayra again. It forces me to think and choose words in…

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The Time Before: Prosery

merrildsmith's avatarYesterday and today: Merril's historical musings

It’s difficult now to remember the time before. Before war, before I knew the evil that humans can inflict–when my worries consisted merely of studying and passing exams. I was determined to prove that I was as brilliant as any man, smarter, in fact. But that day, the dandelion sun glowed, white seed clouds drifted in the azure sky, and reflections floated languidly on the river. Laura begged me to join the rest of the group for a picnic, and I’d agreed, even as she threatened me with the admonition, “and bring no book, for this one day, we’ll give to idleness.” How young and carefree we were, lolling on the grass like the figures in an Impressionist painting, but all clothed. Or mostly.

Laura, Keith, John—all of them gone, victims of war. And I’m left, still searching for answers.

And revenge.

A flash fiction piece for dVerse, Monday…

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When Shadows Scream

merrildsmith's avatarYesterday and today: Merril's historical musings

Peder Severin Krøyer [Public domain] “Summer Evening at Skagen beach, the artist and his wife”

If beneath the blue and honeyed light,
we dream of love, and watch
milk-lather waves in tumbling play,

then we can recall those dreams
when shadows scream
and mind-aches sway

our thoughts—
there’s evil about
and cold winds blow, my love,

but there! They sweep the sky
of storms, and blanketed against the air,
we wait for sun-dazzled caramel rays

to cast aside the haunted winter-breath
and with summer-warmth overlay.

The Oracle kept giving me “shadow,” today, and it made me think of the Lady of Shallott,
“I am half sick of shadows,” said
The Lady of Shalott.”
And aren’t we all?

“I am half sick of shadows,” said
The Lady of Shalott.” John William Waterhouse

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Drop in by Margaret Royall

Nigel Kent's avatarNigel Kent - Poet and Reviewer

Yes, it’s 2022 and we back again with a drop in by Margaret Royall, as she reflects on a poem (or two!) from her Immersed in Blue (Impspired Press, 2021)…

…First of all I would like to express my sincere thanks to Nigel for inviting me to drop in and talk about poetry from my new collection, Immersed in Blue published by Steve Cawte at Impspired Press

I have chosen two interlinked haiku sequences, Late Summer turns to autumn and Land and Seascape from my Iona Journal Haibun of September 2021.

I have been extremely fortunate to visit the Scottish Isle of Iona annually since 2012  (apart from 2020 due to Covid) to attend a writing retreat there run by poet/author Angela Locke MA. For me this has become a special place, a home from home and has inspired much of my poetry over the years. After my return in…

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Responses: Kafka’s Prague by Jiří Kolář (Twisted Spoon Press)

tearsinthefence's avatarTears in the Fence

I bought this book because of the sequence which forms the second part – ‘crumplages’ of photographs, accompanied by quotes from Kafka – having discoveredKolář’s name online in relation to myriad forms of collage. These often gave names to ways of cutting, folding, juxtapositioning or distorting images I and many others already use in visual arts.Kafka’s Pragueis an entertaining and thought-provoking sequence, with deconstructed and re-imagined buildings, reproduced in full colour, opposite brief and elusive fragments from Kafka, often to do with death, dreams and confusion. But it isResponsesthat has enthralled me.

Kolář drew on Surrealism and Dada in his writing and visual art, although he later moved beyond and away from these influences, and much of his art he considered visual poetry. In response to the Czech regime he lived under he made silent, visual poems, but even these mute texts had to be published…

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Poem in Visual Verse

merrildsmith's avatarYesterday and today: Merril's historical musings

My poem, “Versions and Visions” was published in the most recent issue of Visual Verse.

You can see the image and read my poem here.

I’m sharing this with dVerse Open Link Night—live today at 3:00 PM, EST.

I’ve recorded it, as well.

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Wombwell Rainbow Interviews: Donna Vorreyer

Donna Vorreyer

-Donna Vorreyer

is the author of To Everything There Is (2020), Every Love Story is an Apocalypse Story (2016) and A House of Many Windows (2013), all from Sundress Publications. Her work has appeared in Penn Review, Tinderbox Poetry, HAD, Poet Lore, Sugar House Review, Waxwing, and other journals, and she serves as an associate editor for Rhino Poetry. Recently retired from 36 years in public education, she can’t wait to see what happens next.

The Interview

  1. When and why did you start writing poetry?

I suppose there are three answers to that question. I wrote poems as a kid in elementary school because I had an ear for rhyme, and I was a teacher-pleaser. My poems got praised, so I wrote more poems. As a teen, I received a guitar for my 13th birthday and started writing songs, so that was my second introduction to being a poet, this time for the intrinsic motivation of expressing all of my teen angst about unrequited love and the attention it got me at parties. 

But I started writing poetry again as an adult in my early thirties. I had always kept journals and had written some poems for children that had been published, but when I adopted my son, I found that I had more that I wanted to say. Being a public school teacher, I was far removed from the world of poetry, so in order to learn how to enter it, I started reading all of the contemporary poets I could find in the library (not many, it turned out) and found summer workshops to take during my breaks from teaching. As I began to find my voice, poetry became a way for me to filter and understand the world and my place in it. 

2. How aware are and were you of the dominating presence of older poets traditional and contemporary?

When I starting writing, my dominating experience with poetry was through Shakespeare (both from my father and my 6th grade teacher) and then in high school, some canon poets like Frost, cummings, and Millay from my AP English teacher, who was a nun with a very specific sense of what it meant to be well-read. I try now to not only read current contemporary writers, but writers I may have “missed.” I have never studied poetry formally and do not have an MFA, so very often a poet that is considered influential has escaped my radar. For instance, although I had read the often-shared Lana Turner poem by Frank O’Hara, I hadn’t read anything else by him until a few years ago when I picked up a Selected anthology in a used bookstore. 

I find it comforting that there are always new poets from which to learn, poets who vary so widely in concerns, in style, and in form. I like to believe that I learn “moves” from other poets that are then used in my own work organically rather than trying to mimic another writer’s tendencies. 

3. What is your daily  routine?

My daily writing routine is not a routine at all. I am not one of those people who writes every day or does morning pages. Although I am recently retired and have as much time as I’d like to write, I find that I still write the way I did when I was working, which is writing in fits and starts. I take a lot of notes, either in a journal or on my phone if I’m out or walking. When I have time to write, I see if those notes can spark a phrase or sentence. I often free write into an idea for a while and then leave it alone. Those freewrites are almost always longhand because, when I draft on a computer, I start to edit myself too quickly. I don’t allow the same type of messy wandering as I do on the physical page, and that wandering is usually where the strongest images come.  Revision is my favorite part of writing, and that is where I spend the bulk of any time that I designate as writing time.

4. What motivates you to write?

Observations. Juxtapositions. Guilt. Fear. Memory. Love. Seeking to understand. Seeking to make connections. Writing is my way of understanding myself and the world I live in. Being able to explore the past, reach into the future, and question the unaswerable on the page is both challenging and soothing to me. If that writing ever finds an audience outside of me, then that connection is a delightful bonus.

5. What is your work ethic?

It depends on how excited I am about what I am writing or how immediate my need If I’m generating material that surprises or interests me, or I’m using my writing to work through something, I can dive into it for hours or days at a time without a break. If I’m in a fallow period where I’m not generating anything that interests me, then my work ethic becomes more of a gathering and thinking time where I read a lot and focus on those notes that may come here and there. When I have a specific task to complete (editorial work or proofing or prepping to teach a workshop), my work ethic is very strong. When others are depending on me, I tend to take care of those responsibilities first.

6. How do the writers you read when you were young influence your work today?

I read mostly classics and popular fiction as a young reader (young to me meaning high school and college) and the only poetry I encountered was whatever poets in the canon were in the literature anthologies we were using as textbooks – Norton’s, mainly – but I was personally drawn to both Shakespeare and Frost. I admire Shakespeare’s scope, his appeal to both “high” language and common emotion, a mix that is hard to pull off successfully. And Frost’s use of form and his ability to tell stories also held great appeal. I don’t know if I can honestly say I’m influenced by either of those writers, but when I find myself playing with meter, or trying to find the language to make something ordinary seem magical, I think of Shakespeare’s sonnets and Frost’s Birches, the girls with their hair thrown over their heads to dry in the sun.

7. Who of today’s writers do you admire the most and why?

This is a difficult question, as there are so many writers creating admirable work. I admire any writer who finds a way to make me feel something new that also somehow resonates with my own experience, writers who bring me into a world where I am both visitor and native. One writer I admire is Patricia Smith, as she is never satisfied with what she has already accomplished. She is always moving forward to something new, learning something new. And she is generous with her time and her attention in the literary community in a way that someone who has earned her level of recognition does not have to be. There are so many others for different reasons: Traci Brimhall for her language and gift of dreaming; Amorak Huey for his brilliant turns toward surprising and often poignant endings; Mary Ruefle for her humor and gift for seeing the world. I could go on for days…

8. Why do you write, as opposed to doing anything else?

m a competent cook, but not a creative one. I like sports and fitness, but I’m not a great athlete. I sing, play the piano and the guitar, but not well enough to share those skills with anyone else. Writing for me is the best way for me to be creative as I have the strongest kinship with language. Although I love visual art,and enjoy the process of creating it, I have a mental block about sharing it, a judgmental part of my brain that tells me I’m not good at it. With writing, although I have my inner critics, I have learned to tame them through being willing to acknowledge my strengths and weaknesses and work through them. When I write, I can choose easily to share that work or keep it to myself, to privately work through the world with language or cast the words out to others to see if they catch.

9. What would you say to someone who asked you “How do you become a writer?”

The easy answer is “write,” of course. But nothing is that easy. 

If the question emphasizes “become,” then the answer would be to first be a reader. Fall in love with language, with stories, with descriptions. A person can’t do any of that without being a reader. Be an observer of the world. Notice the things that others walk right by. Also try to retain your child-like delight in creating  – hush the inner critics that come with age and school and grades. Write poems and tell stories to please yourself, as a child does. 

If the question is meant as how to become a published writer, that requires a set of skills that you must learn along the way. Accepting criticism and rejection. Understanding that there is always more to learn. Reading a wide selection of publications to see where your work might fit. But most importantly, having a willingness to take risks, as risk is inherent in any stage of making your work public. It’s a risk to put your thoughts onto a page. It’s a risk to send that work out. It’s also a risk to have it published and available for anyone to read and pass judgment.