Invocation for Nine Muses

I shall not conjure you
into a summer’s day
nor to a winter’s night

for you are chance and timing
the missing puzzle shape
to fit wholeness in my life

essential as a fiddle
for bluegrass in a barn

or yeast to flour
to blossom warmth
and leavening for rise

Bonnie Marshall

Artwork by Ilya Volykhine

Amazon.com now carries a paperback edition of a collection of my poetry entitled, The Taste of Bees in Honey.  Should you buy this book, please tell me so that I may thank you. Even if not, know that I greatly appreciate my readers and value their comments.

The Taste of Bees in Honey

https://www.amazon.com/Taste-Honey-Bonnie-Trager-Marshall/dp/1543118364/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1493323901&sr=1-1&keywords=the+taste+of+bees+in+honey

email: belizmarsh@gmail.com

going for distract

boustrophedron van-goph-auvers-rain

 

oh, Dear Reader…let’s go for distract…
pretend it’s a rainy day…or blazing hot
or something’s wrong with our setting
and we can’t change the world…at least
not these very moments

now consider the reward  of thinking
boustrophedon…come on…stay with
me on this one, for it’s a marvel, and
will prove advantage in a curious life
once you get the knack of it…like
computer glasses…or tapping apps

boustrophedron example

 

 

there…you  just “boused”…might
tease your eyes a bit at first until you
find the motion knack of it…the plow
of it, like oxen forward backward on
a field, the way some Greeks…some
Romans incised glyphs into their clay

use it now…you’re ready… you…
could try it with van Gogh…his great
“Rain – Auvers”…1890…one from
his final works

start top left…scan seeing thinking
left to right and right to left across
its levels blue to gold to blue…stop
now and then to ponder what he shows
for it will wonder you

and then…there is…his rain

 

Bonnie Marshall

Painting by Vincent van Gogh
“Rain – Auvers” (1890)

Money Mecca in the Desert

vegas-LeRoy Neiman

Money mecca first is glow behind dark hills
then flames to razzle-dazzle boulevards of sidewalked
believers seeing visions…offering flashing idols
metal paper plastic…handing chips and cards to proxies
in temples where prayers of the faithful…please god please
rise to heaven through tobacco incense haze toward
all seeing watchers over them.

Where devotion…caffeine stoked…blurs lines
of day and night as acolytes peak intensity
with alcohol and speed, and where testosterone
sifts in city air to blend with auto fumes.
Where dulled disciples receive comfort
at the altars of buffet, and toss trample
paper icons of nude gods and goddesses
offered from street stationed church of
Eros zealots.

Where each Monday, delegated deacons
follow morning rites, bag chips left in
collection plates at Sunday’s mecca churches,
appear at the temples’ gates for a ritual
of redemption.

Bonnie Marshall

 

Artwork by Leroy Neiman