SageGreenJournal.org
voices out of the West, mostly poetry, personal to planetary
Blake More
Mendocino Coast, California
Blake More is an artist with multiple creative voices and obsessions: poetry, video, radio, performance, costume design, collage, teaching, painting, functional mixed media art/life pieces and wildly painted poetry art cars.
Her book godmeat is a collection of poetry, prose, color artwork, and a DVD compilation of poem movies (available at www.godmeat.com), and her latest chapbook Up In the Me World is available on her website.
2 by Blake More
What Picture Am I Today
~ a study in black & white, circa 2014
Silhouetting sky expanse
the dark reach of her rests
one-legged upon the future
both woman gazing upward
and with one shared hand
tossing twilight stars
into the earth mirror
planting seeds, kernels of language,
food for their forgotten limbs
sweet liquid communion drawn into light
by the hummingbirds in her mind
standing still, yet moving
as another woman, perhaps her alter angel
younger, no longer distant
illuminates the clouds
does anyone truly understand the flower
emerging from her silence?
resting in between the monochromatic lines
like a Buddha seeking sanctuary
above horizontal racket
she fears no and immediately inhales
so her breath can exhale the coal hearted voices
as they fall upon the blades of their lies and half truths
shouldering her bag of compassion
she puts on her pile of shoes
and continues on with chameleon fishing
forgiving them all
her dreams beckoning
past the gallop of horses
to the secret marching band
prancing confidently across a never-ending journal
something in her wishing to hypnotize
every last morsel of this day
bend it into a smile
that matches her eye
open in the window
Light Nougat
it is January when I bite into the sky
and taste sunset
the deep orange meal
draped with locks of lilac
blooming as if summer lasted all year
ribbons of hot pink edged in tiny bows of yellow
cobalt embracing them all
the hues mingle with the joy
I drank from your eyes this morning
knowing somewhere
you too bask in the last remaining liquid of this day
I quietly sing to the tiny things that make life vast
inhale the light skipping along the waterline
stop to palm flecks of abalone
keeping only the smallest
lest my pockets be too heavy
for pirouettes to carry me
wildly counting
one-two-three-four-nine-ten
past the heron posing amidst the clatter of gulls
a black lab races from shore to lavender froth in tireless laps
seal pup bobbing and rolling and taunting just out of reach
rubber booted photographers balance beside round rock
cameras, like me, aim to capture echoes of dusk
the sun steeps past the faraway ledge
steadfast on its path of day breaks
as beauty seeps down my cheeks
a tributary of blessings
this moment, the air
my lungs expanding
past the boundary of skin
the ocean exhaling me
in the enormity
of us all