June Rain

Rain over Cerro Pedernal, Abiquiu, New Mexico. Color 35mm Kodak film | photo by author

Grey lady walks
across the land
gathering
visits the coast, wades out to sea
lassos the waterspout
collecting raindrops

Scales the mountains
to pine needle music
harbors a cache of snow
scooping up the wind

Sweeps across the plains
raking armloads of sunshine
from the sky
comes away with
pocketfuls of heat

High steps over mesas
combing wild hair
with wands of ocotillo

Leaves dancing footprints
in the dust
gracious fingers painting the canyons

Shakes out her skirts
reviving the desert
with a downpour of promise
and renewal

Another from my Medium archive. Abiquiu is a little bit of an obsession of mine. I’ve written about it on my blog at least twice, and I have secret hopes of camping there again this summer. If you’d like to see more photographs of the area and me waxing ecstatic about the place, you can find that here.

Summer

35mm film photograph by author

Several states away
she reads
lines of Midsummer
It will be over before
she gets
to return home
She won’t tell me
how she really feels
so I don’t really know
and I, too, read
Midsummer
at home
in the dark

A poem from 2020, from my Medium archive. Funny how parenting shows up in so much of my creative work. . . . Thank you for reading!

Morning

Polaroid photograph by author

In the morning the doves’ lament
mixes with the hum of distant traffic
and lawnmowers
a conversation bouncing
between the trees
language following the network
of branches and shade, cover

There are hawks in this neighborhood
who also listen
to the deep breasted plea for love
that echoes from those
light hollow bones
while squirrels scratch
along their fence highway
to fuss and chatter
at the cat

From my Medium archive. The doves are back – now that it’s spring! Thank you for reading

Pelicans

South Padre Island National Seashore | Polaroid photo by author

Aloft on salt air
pelicans patrol the dunes,
punch holes in the waves

Watching the squadrons of pelicans soar in formation back and forth from the water to their nesting grounds all day was a treat that made even the collapse of our tent at 2am worthwhile! Anybody else have beach-camping mishaps both awesome and awful?? Thank you for reading!

Dad

Portrait of James Jasek, on Christmas Day 2018, made with a Graflex XL and Kodak Tri-X

He has always been there
Sailor tongued superhero
pockets full of dirty jokes
Each step of his was four
to little scrambling feet
My progress tethered to a pinky
Wait, Daddy

Powder kegs of emotion
I didn’t understand
where it came from, then
Punching holes in walls
His motor always running
never out of gas
Wait, Daddy

An industry of creation, exploration
The salvation of artifacts
in careful order
Patient with the process
of printing out light
drawing it from the darkness
Wait, Daddy

A love sometimes clumsily expressed
Expectations line a deep well
A big engine needs
a lot of maintenance
to keep the valves clean
to avoid a sudden stall
Wait, Daddy

He has always been there
A library of wisdom
close enough to call
bound with devotion
braving the distance
traversing zones of inspiration
Wait, Daddy

Ticking time bombs in the blood
I didn’t understand
the threat, then
Procedures can’t be panaceas
A locomotive interrupted
screaming wheels suddenly halt
Wait, Daddy
Dad, wait

This is another poem from my Medium archive. My dad had a massive stroke in 2020. It’s been a long road, and I am grateful to still have him here, but the truth is that he isn’t the same and I long for even just one solid minute with the man he used to be. I feel like that man is still trapped inside, dulled down by medication, scrambled up and confused by the mess his brain became; I wish I could reach in there and draw him out.

Thank you for reading!

Ch-ch-ch-changes. . . .

Self portrait | Ondu pinhole and Kodak TriX | photo by author

Welp, it’s been a challenging year for me so far, and the way I’ve responded to it is to push all creative endeavors to the background (except piano, that one is my outlet). I’m not writing much, and I’m not photographing much. By not much I mean barely at all. For a while, I’ve felt like I was spread too thin; I’ve been well aware of how unsustainable it is to have two websites (one for writing, and one for photography) plus a presence on Medium. When I polled the hive mind on Facebook about which platform to make the one-stop-shop, the results were split right down the middle between WordPress and Squarespace. Thus mentally waffling and unprepared to make a decision, I decided to keep them both. For now.

That non-decision was still a decision, of course, and still leaves me spread too thin. Yesterday, in a moment of clarity possibly boosted by endorphins — I was running at the time — I made a further decision to quit writing on Medium altogether BUT before my membership expires to start sharing the poems I have published there so far right here with y’all. Copy, paste, repeat sounds manageable. . . . hopefully! It’s been months since I really put back into the community on Medium, and I don’t feel right about that, so this seems like the best move all around.

Here ends my update, and I hope y’all will stick around to read what I’m going to share over the next while because I am proud of the pieces, and they all brought me a little burst of joy when I made them. May your own joy find you, and quickly, wherever you are today. ✌

Woman by Amy Jasek

Grateful to Forever Endeavor for sharing this poem of mine! Thanks y’all!

Forever Endeavour's avatarForever Endeavour

This body is a conduit

between the earth and sky

she sings to the moon

pulls heaven down

to wear across her shoulders

This body is a shadow

of glory, a powerhouse

of creation, sealed with the Divine

she soars through her cycles

cries out wrenching

new beginnings from the

canyon of existence

She vibrates to the rhythm

of the spheres, in tune

with the perfect pitch of forces

no eye can see

derived, one half of a whole,

but not derivative

This body, the restive palace

for the vast ocean of a soul

that sashays proudly

through a world crowded

with her counterparts

bringing the sweet wind of chaos

in the light of her storytelling eyes

bringing the whisper of delight

that only her curves can hold

This body is the fickle idol

that would bring a multitude

to its knees in the worship

of form’s perfection,

this temple…

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Taking Sides

Georgetown, TX | Sterling Gloves | medium format film photograph by author

the Joyful Conqueror arm wrestles
the Sorrowful Scared Cynic
who’s used to losing

Wild Dreamer kicks
the Careful Rule Follower
in the shins under the table
so Sh*t-stirrer starts up,
knocking over a chair
into Peacemaker, who spills
her drink onto the stifled
Realist’s crisp white shirt

the Diplomat steps forward
but procrastinates for an instant
and gets shoved out of
the way by the Bitter Gossip

Rebellion lets out a whoop,
sensing all-out war,
but Purity pokes her head
into the door, with Conscience
close behind, and it’s all over

with a grumble from reluctant
Understanding, everybody
comes together and settles
back down

This poem is in response to an exercise from Poemcrazy (of course!) that suggested identifying all the different sides of yourself – something like that. It didn’t suggest having them brawl, but this is what I came up with when I let my mind wander into that idea. I had fun writing it, especially thinking about what ridiculous turmoil it is, not just inside of me, but inside of every beautifully complex and ultimately fascinating human being on the planet. (This includes you!)

Thank you for reading!

Groundhog Day

Last winter | Holga film image by author

Up north, trouble is steeping away
a cold brew in the works
an icy blue cloud on the weather map
like a smudge of something borrowed
turning up where it doesn’t belong

The kitchen is a greenhouse
snug and tightly stocked as the fridge
where heat, not freeze, means calamity

But the storm, if it arrives, is hours away
so for now we are just waiting
as anxious in our anticipation
as the crowd who delights
to see grumpy, waddling Phil
rousted from his seasonal sleep
to wink his eyes in the direction of winter

True story: I scratched this out this morning for today, since we are indeed waiting for a winter storm on this Groundhog Day. Repeats are nice, but maybe not of the snowpocalypse we experienced last year down here. . . . Thank you for reading!