Metrics in the Green



there are metrics in the green
of yellowblue now cautionary
for my inner Eve

yes … I know with certainty
the Sun is blazing white
although, it is cartoon colored
for a visual effect

and I know Eve’s flow
is not forbidden for star sailors
although, it is red nuisance
in a spacecraft

yet, birthing of soft pinkness
into a silver shell … and

oh, AdamEve … if you risk generation
outside the prism of green Earth
into a whitegray, blackbeige land
with radiation … bone loss …

oh, beware these consequences
you know well their gravity

Bonnie Marshall

Artwork by Richard Diebenkorn




to part a thought

first poem for a book …

 to part a thought

as shadows fold and fold
into a blind of unlit night,
and I within a box-ed room
do hesitate at close-ed doors
and pause to part a thought

then … here … for authenticity

I shall wear bare cover
of my nakedness … here … a gauzy gown
of no embellishment … with no design
save slight touching of a softness

and with a greysome stain
upon the hem of my intent
from earth and walking barefoot
to feel the grounding there

and then … here…for curiousity
before a puff … a candle smoke
obliterates your sight of me

I shall light a blaze of lanterns
at my windows … on my porch-ed railing,
down narrow steps and winding path
for a welcoming


Bonnie Marshall

Artist: Unknown

Quick Bright Things


quick bright things
traverse thought
from outside in
to inside out

revealing implication
like apples ready … dropped
and gravity implied

they slip receptive
to our mind from
this is that to …
perhaps  … that is this

like rainbow shades
from sunshine rain
that prismed thought
so then was found … eventually
a frequency in starlight

yes, we think quick bright
from outside in and inside out
now … then … this … that

life is a quick bright thing
think this world
to the next


Bonnie Marshall

Artwork: Anonymous
“Flammarion” 1888

Time in the Full of Empty


these are times for vases
I’ll leave vacant
and not cut the roses lilies daffodils
blooming in my garden

 I’ll feed house crickets to the song finch
for this is its molting season
it will sing again … or die
like the crickets

once a dove flew against my window
to drop hurt … still breathing
I caged and healed it
watched it orient and fly
watched it taloned by a diving hawk

oh,  now is time in the full of empty
when smiles are merely stretch-ed lips
and fog trails from my fingertips
and I wear his slippers

 I shall sit upon my lawn
close to the roses lilies daffodils
and breath the fragrance
of invisible of presence



Bonnie Marshall

Artwork by Qi Baishi

Magnetic Resonance


I am
centered on a level slide
and inserted into whiteness
of magnetic resonance

as around me
coolant pulses …  mimics idling
waiting simmer of a train

now breathe gently … do not move

then a ratchet thump and clank
similar to those in London
loud inside a towered clock

there are minutes into hour
of submission to the battery
charting somewhere imperfection

for I am far from Fibonacci
far from the golden sequence
in a prime da Vinci print

you may move now

I am ejected slowly
near proximity to far

enervated into softness
from brash hurley burley
and harsh noises in the air


Bonnie Marshall

Art by Greg Dunn
“Cortical Sunburst II”