Pieces of sky


Photo Copyright Annette Marie Hyder

By Annette Marie Hyder
(March 23, 2012)

The trees crowd one another
trying to be the first
to give bouquets
of fresh green leaves
to the warm air.

Looking through
their gift-filled hands
I want to slip through
their fingers
and pluck
pieces of sky —

(an ethereal type
of spring harbinger
blooming in shades of blue)
bring fat roses
(azure, robins egg, Tiffany, true)
home for my table, to scent the air
to wear in my hair…
and to wrap in a nosegay for you.

Links of interest:

A note on nosegay (Source: Wikipedia)

“A nosegay, tussie-mussie, or posy/posey/posie is a small flower bouquet, typically given as a gift. They have existed in some form since at least medieval times, when they were carried or worn around the head or bodice.

The term nosegay arose in fifteenth-century Middle English as a combination of nose and gay (which then meant “ornament”). So a nosegay was an ornament that appeals to the nose or nostril.

The term tussie-mussie comes from the reign of Queen Victoria (1837–1901), when the small bouquets became a popular fashion accessory. Typically, tussie-mussies include floral symbolism from the Language of Flowers, and therefore may be used to send a message to the recipient.”

Shades of blue: You Only See Colors You Can Name (eagereyes.org)

Happy St. Patrick’s Day 2012!


Photo Courtesy of EstiG at Deviantart

“Being Irish, he had an abiding sense of tragedy, which sustained him through temporary periods of joy.”
— William Butler Yeats


Reel

By Annette Marie Hyder

Let the cold mists swirl.
Let the shamrocks riffle in the breeze
on the hard white cliffs that tower
above the green seaweed.

Call the dark puca
with the whistling of a one-eyed stone.
Trace the burly hillside’s shoulders
to reach the tor top throne.

There I’ll point my face seaward
with my back against the wall
the happiest of fairytale princesses
to ever attend a ball.

The gorgeous waves beneath me
dance in seabed’s ballroom
and the rolling hills beckon me
with their sumptuous costume

to kick my heels up in the grass
although my slippers be of glass
and sure as I am you know I will
kick them off  and race down that hill!

Links of Interest:
St. Patrick’s Day Poem: Irish
At the end of the rainbow
National Geographic: St. Patrick’s Day 2012: Facts, Myths, and Traditions
greenchicagoriver.com
Time News Feed: A Brief History of Leprechauns
Paddy O’Brien: Irish Traditional Music:

“Chulrua’s music is the old instrumental dance melodies of Ireland: jigs, reels, hornpipes, polkas, and the occasional song. We also play walking marches, slow airs, set dances, and the harp music of Turlough O’Carolan and others. Our concerts are in keeping with the old tradition—music in a relaxed, intimate atmosphere, and tunes offered as they were handed down from generation to generation in Ireland. The heart of Irish music is the session, where tunes are played and traded, and conversation about music is the central theme. Sessions can be held anywhere, but are usually the best—and most relaxed—in a small, intimate place like the kitchen of a house or a small pub.” Read more here.

Vernal Bold


Shawn Lovell Metalwork Bed

The Princess and the Pea
By Annette Marie Hyder

The proverbial pea
was all in her head
and made up of angst
and the feeling of dread
that was the hard teratoma
of spring time one hour
leaping ahead.

Fiddling with the cogs and wheels of time itself (or at least the signs of time we use to find our way through our days) on March 11, 2012

Did you do it? Did you metaphorically jump, skip and bound ahead (aka “spring forward”) in “celebration” of the day we are supposed to turn our clocks forward one hour? Or did you just “spring-roll” it? Roll over in bed whilst all of your timekeeping devices automatically adjusted things for you?

I’m walking through a discordant world right now (one in which the Doctor* might find himself at home), in which two sets of time tick the seconds, minutes and hours away. They discordantly vie for timekeeping supremacy. The self-setting computer, iphone and assorted automated gadgetry are all in alignment with society at large and all I had to do was roll out of bed to be included in the perception that it is an hour later than my more anachronistic set of alarm clock, microwave clock and stove-top clock would have it. For those resistant rogues I am required to manually set them to reflect the generally accepted agreement of just what tock ‘o the clock it is.


Links of interest on the subject of time and daylight saving time:

Occam’s Razor and the Illusion of Time:

“One of the more controversial theories — which increasingly is being accepted by these theoretical physicists — is that which we call time is just an illusion. A lot of people feel the same way but physicists like Greene say it can be inferred from Einstein’s Special Theory of Relativity. Past, present and future are all equally real and timeless. But what is real? It is apparently not what we think, at least according to physicists like Greene. Space is real. Mass and energy are real. Gravity is real. But time is probably just an illusion.” Read more here

Is Time An Illusion? From the Buddha to Brian Greene: Read the NPR article by Adam Frank here.

Occam’s Razor at Wikipedia
Daylight Saving Time is a Modern Invention
Mythbusting Daylight Saving Time at Gizmodo

*David Tennant for the win!

Sunday Things: Poetry Super Highway Featured Poet of the Week

I’ve been selected to be a Poet of the Week on the Poetry Super Highway. My piece, “the rain was falling like soft tears”, will appear online during the week of March 12-18 and then forever thereafter on the Past Featured Poets archive section. Check it out here.

PSH Live Open Reading

In other PSH news, the PSH Live Open Reading is today (Sunday March 11, 2:00 pm Pacific time), hosted through BlogTalkRadio. You can see what all the fuss is about and listen to archived shows in the archive here.

Great Poetry Exchange: 48 of 80 Books Have Been Exchanged so Far

The deadline to send your book, if you participated, is this Friday March 16th. If you didn’t receive the email letting you know where to send your book, please send them a note and they’ll resend it. Click on “Great Poetry Exchange” from the main PSH menu to see all of this year’s participants.

Who is behind all this?

Just who is behind PSH, the Cobalt Cafe Poetry Reading Series, PSH Live Open Readings, The Great Poetry Exchange, and more? Rick Lupert. Check out Lupert: It’s The Website here.

Happy International Women’s Day 2012!


Public Domain Image

International Women’s Day

From Wikipedia:

International Women’s Day (IWD), originally called International Working Women’s Day, is marked on March 8 every year. In different regions the focus of the celebrations ranges from general celebration of respect, appreciation and love towards women to a celebration for women’s economic, political and social achievements. Started as a Socialist political event, the holiday blended in the culture of many countries, primarily Eastern Europe, Russia, and the former Soviet bloc. In many regions, the day lost its political flavor, and became simply an occasion for men to express their love for women in a way somewhat similar to a mixture of Mother’s Day and St Valentine’s Day. In other regions, however, the original political and human rights theme designated by the United Nations runs strong, and political and social awareness of the struggles of women worldwide are brought out and examined in a hopeful manner.

Tying in with celebrating IWD, check out the Facing Feminism: Feminists I Know project and keep checking back here for updates and news about this ongoing project! Just click on the thumbnails to view and click again to enlarge each piece.


Flight

By Annette Marie Hyder

Her voice is made of a pair of wings
folded but not clipped.
Their downy softness covers
the strength of tendons
elastic tight and curved for flight
the resilience of bones
hollow and light
for the wind to sing through
but also the scars from birds of prey
broken quills
and moulting.

Those wings, her voice,
folded quietly by her sides
are feathered bows as they rise
spread out and grab fistfuls of sky
to launch aloft upon the air
where freedom is a set of wings
that is a voice
that will still sing
though scarred and made of partly
ruined things.
The joy will out when on the wing.


Links of interest:

International Women’s Day 2012
Los Angeles Times
Toronto Star
The Washington Post