Coordinated by the curator of our local art gallery, the poetry circle partnered with a photographer to create The Minimalist Eye. Yours truly has two poems featured in the project: Slanted Orange and Big Red.
To see the full exhibition, visit the virtual tour:
Jumbo Jet they called her – fast on her feet, zooming in, swooping up trays, delivering with flight- attendant flair.
When did she turn to autopilot, stop paying attention to her destination?
Didn’t she know she was set on a crash course, headed for disaster?
Tried to warn her, wake her from stupor; told me she’d reset but danger remains.
She’s cruising now – over-sized turbo-lacking under-fuelled, no longer able to soar – trapped in a treacherous game.
Waits tables, tries to keep a clean house, caters to others, lends an ear, has squeezed every drop of self into a low flying life
needs to land a space of her own, with room to breathe; take life in shorter intervals, refill her jets.
(Portrait of a Waitress was originally written in 2016. Image a self portrait. Note: once upon a time, I was a waitress, whom the cooks referred to as “Jumbo Jet”. I waitressed my way through university, and a few rough spots in life. While I gave up the job, the metaphor of ‘waiting’ continued to be a theme in my dreams for many years after.)
Next door cultivates perfection – gardens pert with flowery blooms like vibrant little soldiers heeding the command of love’s labour, shimmering with prideful confidence
My garden is overgrown vines, chaos’ shameful exhibition, bemoans the futility of planting, knows there will be no follow through, betrays the absence of love’s toil.
Life has schooled detachment lessons in loss counsel defensiveness – better to guard hope than plant it…
How can next door be so reckless; do they not know this all for naught?
(This a rewrite of former poem also titled Next Door. Image my own.)