So, without further ado, let’s get to today’s painting and poem, inspired by Charles Baudelaire’s poem, The Owls.

To read this poem, click here (or scroll down near the bottom of the page)

---

ADDIE’S PAINTING

---

MY POEM

THE QUIET HOUR

This is the quiet hour,
when the moon casts
all that’s seemingly manifest,
into doubt and shadows.

This is the quiet hour,
when all the world sleeps,
except for the horned owl
perched upon a pine tree.

Be still, my friend.
Be fearless and listen.

This is the late, breathless hour
when the storm breaks,
the world stops spinning,
and the moon freezes,
turning the river into glass,
over which you bend
to gaze at your reflection.

Be still, my friend,
be fearless.
Confront yourself,
and wrestle with

who
you
are.

The great horned owl
doesn’t ask a question.
It asks you to question.

---

OUR INSPIRATION

THE OWLS
by Charles Baudelaire

‘Neath their black yews in solemn state
The owls are sitting in a row
Like foreign gods; and even so
Blink their red eyes; they meditate.

Quite motionless they hold them thus
Until at last the day is done,
And, driving down the slanting sun,
The sad night is victorious.

They teach the wise who gives them ear
That in this world he most should fear
All things which loud or restless be.

Who, dazzled by a passing shade,
Follows it, never will be free
Till the dread penalty be paid.

---

Notes:

Charles Baudelaire, 1821-1867. Born in Paris, France.
See French Symbolism and the Decadent Movement
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Decadent_movement
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Symbolism_(arts)
Link to Biography: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/charles-baudelaire
Link to Poem: https://fleursdumal.org/poem/156

---

Creativity is contagious, pass it on.

Albert Einstein

---

Every month or so, I’ll send a newsletter via e-mail to my subscribers. More often than not, it will contain a list of my new blog posts.  You may find something in it that interests you! Or more likely, you’ll be bored to tears and curse my very existence. In either case, you should sign up. You may unsubscribe at any time!

So, without further ado, let’s get to today’s painting and poem, inspired Carl Sandburg’s famous little poem, The Fog.

To read this poem, click here (or scroll down near the bottom of the page)

---

ADDIE’S PAINTING

---

MY POEM

ASPHODEL FIELDS

Murmuring in the misty maw
in dark fields of asphodel
a cauterized face,
faceless,
stammers and halts.

For just a moment
it’s deathly still—
deathless,
dumb and mute,
without a past,
and no story to spin for a soul.

Is it a memory
that’s just on the tip
of its toothless tongue?
Had it not lighted
a coal-black lantern
to remind itself of its way?

It’s just one face—
one among many,
one among pathless, hapless,
uncountable legions.

---

OUR INSPIRATION

THE FOG
by Carl Sandburg

The fog comes
on little cat feet.

It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.

---

Notes:

Carl Sandburg, 1878-1967. Born in Galesburg, Illinois.
Link to Biography: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/carl-sandburg
Link to Poem: https://poets.org/poem/fog

---

The creative adult is the child who survived.

Ursula K. Le Guin

---

Every month or so, I’ll send a newsletter via e-mail to my subscribers. More often than not, it will contain a list of my new blog posts.  You may find something in it that interests you! Or more likely, you’ll be bored to tears and curse my very existence. In either case, you should sign up. You may unsubscribe at any time!

So, without further ado, let’s get to today’s painting and poem, inspired by Omar Khayyám’s timeless book, The Rubáiyát.

To read this poem, click here (or scroll down near the bottom of the page)

---

ADDIE’S PAINTING

---

MY POEM

IRIS

I once filled
my empty inkwell
with lonely tears
and the words I scrawled
could not be read—
neither by me,
nor anyone.

I prayed and wingèd Iris
gave me wine to drink,
infused my cheerless ink
with every color and hue—
cadmium red and ultramarine,
lemon yellow and cerulean blue,
to name just a few.

She put her hand on mine,
and plucked a feather from her wing.
She loved me,
guided my pen,
and so I began
to write words for the world to read.

---

OUR INSPIRATION

from THE RUBÁIYÁT (VERSE 71)
by Omar Khayyám (trans. Edward FitzGerald)

The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it.

---

Notes:
Omar Khayyám, 1048-1131. Born in Nishapur, Persia.
Biography: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/omar-khayaam
Link to Poem: https://www.theguardian.com/books/booksblog/2008/dec/29/poem-week-edward-fitzgerald
Link to Translator: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edward_FitzGerald_(poet)
Rubáiyát (Persian) means quatrains: verses in four lines.

---

Everybody born comes from the Creator trailing wisps of glory. We come from the Creator with creativity. I think that each one of us is born with creativity.

Maya Angelou

---

Every month or so, I’ll send a newsletter via e-mail to my subscribers. More often than not, it will contain a list of my new blog posts.  You may find something in it that interests you! Or more likely, you’ll be bored to tears and curse my very existence. In either case, you should sign up. You may unsubscribe at any time!

ABOUT THE POETRY PAINTING PROJECT

For the past couple of months I have been working on a huge new secret project with my painter, Addie Hirshten, of Studio Alchemy

We selected 30 poems (from the public domain) and each day for the next 30 days I will write a poem inspired by it, and Addie will paint a painting.

Expect an outpouring of creative energy! This is the sort of big project that artists live for … where we can say what we yearn to say.  Big picture stuff. Heart wrenching stuff. I feel so inspired by the poetry we are working with AND seeing Addie’s process as well. Expect daily surprises with our posts. Expect passion. Expect love. Expect life.

So, without further ado, let’s get to today’s painting and poem, inspired by Matsuo Bashō’s poem An ancient pond …

To read this poem, click here (or scroll down near the bottom of the page)

---

ADDIE’S PAINTING

---

MY POEM

DESTINY
(a reimagined telling of Odin’s sacrifice)

You, old frog,
warts and all, gazed
at the still, black water
from a thicket of reeds.

You listened absently
to the sound of crickets.

How long had you stared,
with tears in your bulbous eyes,
at the moon’s reflection?

The night had been long.
It had been more than a year
since the pearl of the sun
fell in Lake Mimir.

How long, old frog, had you,
out of cowardice,
evaded your destiny?

“Enough,” croaked the frog,
“I am a friend to mankind,
and, like Prometheus,
will give you fire!”

Then you, wise, old frog,
plucked out your eye!
Oh, the pain! The socket bled.
You paid your due for the shaman’s sight,
saw the sun in your head,
lost in the riverbed.

With one momentous leap,
you dove into Lake Mimir
and braved alien-like fish,
predators all,
their long teeth arrayed
in tight rows
like the bayonets of a tyrant’s army.

You sussed out the pearl of the sun,
pulled it out of the muck,
and swam to the surface
as fast as your strong, squat legs
could carry you.

Wise, old frog!
A winged dragon you then became!
Your destiny honored! Coward no longer!
You bore the burning sun,
soared up into the sky,
black and full of stars,
and placed her on her golden throne,
and the heavens shone,
and mankind cried for joy,
once again felt her warmth,
and saw the light of day.

It had been far too long.

Wise, old frog!
You were too long a miserable chrysalis.
Still … we thank you for your sacrifice.

---

OUR INSPIRATION

AN ANCIENT POND …
by Matsuo Bashō

An ancient pond!
With a sound from the water
Of the frog as it plunges in.

---

Notes:
Matsuo Bashō, 1644-1694. Born in Matsuo Chuemon Munefusa, Japan, and was the most famous poet of the Edo period.
Link to Biography: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/basho
Link to Poem: https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Frog_Poem_(Aston)
Found in: https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/A_History_of_Japanese_Literature
Link to Translator: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_George_Aston

---

There is an energy in the creative process that belongs in the league of those energies which can uplift, unify, and harmonize all of us.

Corita Kent

---

Every month or so, I’ll send a newsletter via e-mail to my subscribers. More often than not, it will contain a list of my new blog posts.  You may find something in it that interests you! Or more likely, you’ll be bored to tears and curse my very existence. In either case, you should sign up. You may unsubscribe at any time!