Poetry in Forms
- Kristy Deetz, Edward S. Louis
- Oct 7
- 2 min read
River’s Edge
Let’s go back to the old river’s edge.
No, you can’t go back to the old river’s edge.
Now there’s a brand-new edge
and always will be:
the old roll of oozy nests and algae,
the new running blue, free
in its fingerings till tomorrow
when gauze, silt, and reeds will slow
and catch it, scratch vectors for a crow,
a bass, a dragonfly, or drippy sedge.
Tipping Point
So very Cavalier . . .
The hat makes the man or the woman
by haberdashery or prestidigitation,
But the artist must, as well, shape the moai.
The tipping point is a matter of balance of stability vs. fragility.
Stone has more strength than flesh or bone.
but stone, like life, for all its beauty,
can’t regenerate from ashes.
A-Tasket
Oh, dash it: a tasket, a basket,
all shapes; any shape becomes so task it.
Let it be a nest, a bowl, or a casket.
Just ask it; it may hold an egg. white egg on excelsior, brown egg on a gasket.
Grasp it; it may break or lose a wing or a leg.
It may drip sludge, or shock, or dredge, or beg.
Art as a basket: input your wish for fun or graphing.
Read its data; heft it for its weight.
Careful! It may feel hot!
Or it may be laughing.
Flowered
We’ve nailed all sorts of things
to trees. It’s seldom done us any
good. But we’ve made scrolls, rings,
libraries, chapels: some have done many
good, at least a little. Colorful excrescences
may come from art, illnesses, excesses,
necessity. Drippings fold them into dense
catalogues of semi-permanence.
The odd thing is that sometimes
A succulent flower grows there.
Disclaimer: Kristy and Ed, artists of Specimens 3D eco-art and poems, a combination of natural materials, trash, and encaustic, are actors in post-apocalyptic evolution, environmental reflection, and reconnection through art, process, and imagination.
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