One of my photo/poems included in my book, Reflections by the Shore.
Reflections by the Shore, is finally a reality. My love for the ocean took me through journeys of joy, solace, grief, while walking along the shore and connecting with nature. At first, the photographs and poems were moments of inspiration without the idea of publishing, but art is to be shared even when we wonder if it is ready for public consumption.
After a few years of collecting my thoughts into poetry, I was encouraged to publish my work.
The book is now available through Amazon and I am elated to see it take a life of its own.
“It is the nature of poetry to determine or affirm one’s relation to the incomprehensible condition of existence.”
By Mary Ruefle in “Madness, Rack, and Honey.
A beautiful piece of art! Powerful!
I’m happy to present “Arrhythmia,” a video poem created by Marc Neys (aka Swoon) from a poem I wrote. Michael Dickes, editor of Awkword Paper Cut, recorded the poem, and I shot the video. Here are some process notes about this project:
The poem started with a note I wrote in my journal on May 21 of this year: “My Son’s Heart.” On July 1, I added these lines:
speaks its own language
code rolling out of machines
has frightened some, intrigued others
is slightly larger than normal
a heart ahead of its time
refusal to beat like other hearts
From these lines the poem wrote itself, basically. I finished it on July 2. A couple of weeks later in New York City, I met up with Michael Dickes (editor of Awkword Paper Cut) and asked if he would record the poem. He made a wonderful recording, exactly what I…
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“When one sees the tree in leaf, one thinks the beauty of the tree is in its leaves, and then one sees the bare tree.”
From The Bare Tree by Samuel Menashe
At the edge of the sea
the unmistakable sounds are
constant, yet changing
between the roar of
the curling wave, rushing,
racing, surging to the
edge as if an urgent
call relentlessly beckons the rush.
Then swishing, it laps along
the shallow shore
for another rush.
Each wave curls and breaks
into the pure white foam
as a snow avalanche
agitating the core that holds it,
shouting, Here I am!
Misting, rumbling through,
while carrying new
life to shore.
The Windy Shore
by Marcela Griffin
The windy shore pushes
my kayak, battering it from side
to side, as I bring the vessel to land
fighting the surge that pulls me
back again and again.
The windy shore shows
its bright, white foamy caps in every swell
that lift just above the craft
spilling their foam all around the top
of the swaying kayak.
The windy shore holds
me as captured prey just to show
its force. Two sweeps of the paddle
forward towards shore is erased
against the pulling tide.
The wind finally releases
its grasp as I, exhausted, launch
to the edge of the sandy beach
triumphantly conquering the struggle,
as in life,
and escaping the forceful wind.