Sunday, October 15, 2017

OTI:one poem, one pic, notes:10/15/17

Open To Interpretation

Dragons' Dance

Dragons dream,
And Dragons roar,
Fill the night their winged soar.
When daytime sleeps,
And their sorrow neaps,
Dragons play the stars away.


Notes: pen and ink, drawing from ones imagination, isn't easy...though I've seen it done grade school I'd draw, and a friend would draw too...his drawing would look like right out of realistic comic books...he could just 'see' I suspect, and drawing was no more difficult than inking a tracing he'd see with his imagination on the paper...much like all the inktober artists I've been browsing!'s kind of an amazing see them go to youtube and put #inktober2017 in the search box...anyway...was feeling the lack of the proper paper to use for ink, and noted hot press water color paper was off to Michaels, but they didn't have it...set the pursuit aside, and continued with what I have...but today, tried again, and went to Aaron Brothers, which I forgot was right close to Michaels in Costa Mesa, and today they had a one art pad or  books, and get two for free...I just wanted one, but came home with twelve, of different sizes!...nine canson illustration board pads (10 papers each), and three Strathmore bristol board  books...hundred bucks!...someone on web noted collecting art materials can be a kind of obsession...this foray flummoxed me...'you'll be busy awhile!'...'yes, I'll grow a beard, and not come up for air awhile...all your fault..."...and my inktober for today, day fifteen, brief...they've all been brief compared to the other efforts...this bunch can really churn out things...just the videos they make of themselves drawing, and chatting, is remarkable...much time and effort to make a good video, and many of them are very good...I made a few inks like above with a poem...this one I keep editing, but once inked on a page, that that one is like a tattoo...there is much in these, my inkings. of personal import...these particular ones I try to do at a restaurant, or somewhere where I'm out and about waiting...rolling up to Denny's I saw the morning star, Venus?, and I thought, oh, that fits the poem I'm about to try and illustrate...and the sun coming up was lighting up the bottom of a few clouds with orange and red, like it does in the morning, so I tried to put that in the ink...and too 'neap'...looking up 'neap', it wasn't what I thought it was, low low tide, it's like a tide that isn't because the sun and moon cancel one another out...which is a fit too, so I keep it...where the moon and sun are in the ink isn't exact!...I just wanted both in the frame...the Dragon pose is from the glass dragon I got at the Park, and is dragon in the sonnet, Crystal Shop...when I look at the ink, I remember all the little problems I had inking it...I'd like to be able to have a 'hand' in writing word captions, like comic artists do, but my handwriting has always been a scrawl, so need to practice, develop that...I draw with pencil first, then ink, this time with one of those pen the inking is an easy enough thing to do, unless one is doing it without an under drawing...the trick is to be styling when you are a calligrapher...everyone has a enough drawings and one discovers ones...writing the same...but there is like this urgent requiring thing to look polished, professional, or something...except for those, like my childhood friend, who just come by that naturally! inking is full of mistakes...'happy accidents'--Bob above is the Dragon's back leg...its too small...its not articulated right...but it kind of fits...maybe that is the only criteria that matters--does everything 'fit'...when done with inktober, I'll put them all together in a post...the stradeasel ones too...hope not to overload google's blogger!...a lot of the inkers self publish collections, many for sale...



Tuesday, October 10, 2017

OTI:two pics, six poems, notes:10/10/17


Black Ship Pods
from Black Dragon Lore

A Black Ship hull is crenulated from water line to Black Deck corposant railing.  It's bumpy, and each bump a  Black Ship Pod in some stage of growth.  When grown enough they can pop off and float beside their parent Black Ship.  And can re-attach until grown enough to be on their own on the wide ocean. When nearing this time, a nascent sail appears.  Pods with these sails are raced tethered to White Whales, the crews bracing behind the sail with their legs and knees while holding on to one another, and to the one holding the tether to the White Whale's harness.  There's nothing to hang on to on a Pod, and crews often slip off, a disaster if the tether isn't released in such event, or tangles up around the crew.

White Whales
From the masthead,
The lookout called down,
"White Whales!"
"Finish the hand,"
Said Poe,
And Ned sat back down.
"They won't begin without you."
Poe meditated over his
Dead Man's Poker hand.
He was the dead man,
And his was the last bet--
'Call or raise or fold...'
He thought long.
Petra scampered down
From the Red Wheel
And leaned low over
Blue Sky's hand,
Took in his cards,
And the discards,
Said to Blue Sky,
"No chance,
You're done.
Come away, Cerulean,
The Pods are on the waves
And the White Whales
Invite us to their fun."
Petra pulled Blue Sky
Away from the game.
Blue Sky dropped his cards
And Ned hooted,
And threw in his hand.
Ichi and Shaw had already folded.
"We're off too!" they both said.
Poe looked at the pot,
The scattered cards,
His own eight still unseen, face down.
"Mystery is no mystery
When the dead find their own answer."
Said Poe.

Turtle Soup

From the Masthead
The lookout
Watched the three person teams
Settle on to their Pods
And harness their tethers
To each their White Whale:
Petra (reigns), Blue Sky, and Dana;
Ned, Shaw, and Ichi (reigns);
Queequig, Ishmael and Poe (reigns).
Poe had felt the last poker hand
Ill omened, and donated the pot
To the onlookers,
His hand unseen, unknown.
Ravens flew down
From Black Ship Liz's rigging,
Settled one on each Pod crew's shoulder.
"Suit up!" Poe said,
And the Ravens morphed
Into black full body armor.
Petra laughed to see
Blue Sky's surprise
Through his face shield.
"The Raven Suit will provide you air,
And much else."
Petra said.
"I need air?"
Asked Blue Sky.
"You'll see!"
Said Petra.
"Last to the Pinnacle
Is Sea Turtle soup!"
Shouted out Queequig.


From the Masthead,
The lookout
Watched the teams begin
Racing to the horizon,
Their wakes like long
White brushstrokes
On the black ocean,
And he saw beyond 
What they, low,
Bounding over the waves,
Couldn't see,
A distant patch of fog
On the bluer than blue sea.

The Pinnacle Race
from Black Dragon Lore
The race just to get to the Pinnacle is no easy matter.  At the White Whales' break neck speed, the pods strike each wave like it was a floating log.  Experienced teams reign their Whale according to the waves, be they choppy, gullies and mountains, or dead calm.  Each team crouches atop their pod, locking their knees into the nascent sail.  One in front holds the tether reigns.  Through the reigns the Whale feels the crews' commands.
The two behind hold the one in front around the waist.  To stay on the pod maintaining their grip is a test of strength, to control speed and direction, one of skill, and to inspire a White Whale to win, one of spirit.

The Pinnacle
from Black Dragon Lore

The Pinnacle is a submerged Volcano, riddled with caverns and caves, tunnels and chutes, enormous to small, some so small a Whale can barely squeeze through.  The Race proper begins at its base, and concludes with the first to reach the top.  The Pinnacle, still somewhat active, illuminates much of the course with red glow from oozing pillow lavas and fumerals.  Juvenile Black Giant Squids mark out the course, using their color changing skins for course marking beacons.  This for the crews' eyes.  The White Whales see the beacons and caves fine with their echo-location--them, and Pinnacle Champion Ichi.  For the unfortunate, even a Raven Suit affords poor protection to a team that crashes inside the Pinnacle.


Notes: race lifted from movieMobyDick1956, and the 'earn your flying dragon' quests in WOW (World of Warcraft)...I've made Ichi into a kind of echo-locator...which would explain a lot!...ral...reference too the Farnsworth Bank off Catalina...bought a deck of cards, and Dead Man's Poker works!...can't find walnuts in shells anywhere...


Monday, October 9, 2017

OTI:one poem, two pics, notes:10/9/17

Open To Interpretation


Frustration is the mother of us all.


Note: all along have been wondering what a 'another thing on the tree' Black Ships might look like...don't know but they never will be definitively depicted!...but a start of course was Jack Sparrow's Pirate Ship Pearl...but I couldn't just copy that...and thought and thought...and three masts was certain...and a lot of other things...but three sails on each mast was bothering me...and I thought, 'just one on each'...I've seen old Chinese/Japanese ships like that...and I sketched a few sails...wide at bottom, tapering at top...such sails might block the wind from one another, a thought...and the conventional shape of sailboat hulls wasn't working...too un-black shipish!...and the thought, make it wide!...and I sketched that, wide with roundish shape...and thought, 'oh, it's a walnut!'...messed with the sails, 'oh, their leaves'...'aspens!'...and the leaf veins the, I was off to the web to look at walnuts...discovered they're used to make pen and ink inks, and, and!, to make little boats for kids, with paper sails, or leaf sails! make one of those, pour some candle wax into half a walnut, let it cool, put a toothpick in the wax...cut off the sharp point after poking it through the sail...add a flag with a piece of folded tape trimmed to a point...the dyi this is from is on youtube...several clips there on how to make walnut boats!...anyway, a Black Ship isn't kid stuff...well, maybe...and I've scaled up the idea...put a Black Dragon figure head on it...a Puffin...the masts, the veins, can bend and tilt, so that solves the sails getting in the way of each other's wind...I can use all kinds of leaf shapes...make Black Ship Medea with Black Oak leaves...Black Ship Argo with Live Oak leaves...thought of hull made from an acorn...maybe other nuts...went to all the nearby grocery stores looking for walnuts to draw luck...the rigging, and how to make the Ravens and Gulls without a lot of clutter, a puzzle...some other things...but most things fit!...wish I could with the octopus like color changes...and the lightning charging, going up the veins/masts!



Saturday, October 7, 2017

OTI:three pics and notes:10/7/17

Note: I finally found a head for my imagined Black Dragons!...Puffins!...there's even a pun...Puffin Dragons!...I've always known the feet I want, oversize Peregrine feet...been fond of them ever since I did a copy of an Egyptian tomb painting of Horus, the falcon god...but the head has been a mystery...there's back and forth on the web about dragons, and how anatomically correct they are...could they really fly as usually depicted?...big enough wings on something and anything can has it people could fly on Saturn's moon Titan...air just thick enough, and gravity weak aside!...but I thought and thought on this, and studied a lot of flying dinosaurs...nearly all of them have long beaks, or snouts, which is usual for flying sea birds...but there was one recently discovered that has a rounded snout...and I've thought to use that for model, but can't relocate it...anyway...knuckled down on the idea tonight trying to think of something for the #inktober2017 contest...and thought to look at parrot heads...parrots talk, and my dragons too...but their beaks all turn down...and then I thought of Puffins...I haven't any bucket things, but one would be to see in the wild Puffins...and their perfect...they have like facial tattoos...I can make different ones for each dragon...and they're black and white with red and orange highlights...the red is a fit...wings a puzzle still...this is not a scaly dragon!...feathers and such...webbed the clawed feet so when they swim...the Puffins have two long feathers on their head, or some such...have wanted a crest...and a flair on a long tail...the crest gets in the way of a puzzle...seagull wings maybe...seagulls are like the strongest birds...and why they prefer, over the ocean, the local strip malls, and Target parking lot, a mystery...Puffins and all the far north sea birds are in peril as global warming alters their niche...Puff the Puffin Dragon...too cute...ral...

OTI:two poems and notes:10/7/17

Open To Interpretation
There's things beyond our reach
But not beyond our dreams.

Oh, by some semblance we resemble them
That set us on our tortured sad journey.
As those with dark skins' freedoms light skins hem,
So we are born into their slavery.

At our slightest nuance they throw their whip
And lash and lash again at our twinned fate
Survived from that wreckage tossed around flip
Confounding our whole world from love to hate.

What with our hand cuffs and ankle shackles
We can only shuffle and dare not touch
In our dungeoned romantic debacles
While we scream and to our sanity clutch.

Who are we beside to them they carry
To know their disdain, their vengeful fury?
Dead Man's Hand

"Join us Blue Sky!"
Said Poe,
Sitting with Queequig and Ned
On the Black Deck
Of Black Ship Liz,
Playing cards with the black deck.
"We need another hand."
"I've observed,"
Said Blue Sky,
"And rules I know
All too well,
But yours confuse."
"Game's Dead Man's Poker."
Said Ned.
"After one wins,
One becomes the dead man.
You're dealt eight cards
But you can't look at them,
They stay face down
Until the end of the play.
Then you can look,
See what best five you have.
The rest play the usual way,
Five card draw."
"In such straights,
How can a dead man bet?"
Asked Blue Sky.
"The discards are shown face up
So there's some clue,
But not much for the dead man
Or anyone."
Said Poe,
"His hand could be
Or not be
Something or nothing;
His and our guess until the end."
"And whose advantage?"
Asked Blue Sky.
"Oh, Queequig's been known
To stay dead the whole game
And send us penniless below."
Said Shaw of the missing tooth grin.
"Make room, I'm feeling lucky as
Queequig, but not as ugly."
The five sat and played
A long while.
Blue Sky's attention drifted
To Destiny beside Ishmael
At the Red Wheel.
"That hand you can't see, is it?"
Asked Poe.
Blue Sky blushed.
"She's different." he said.
"She's Lenore."
Said Poe.
"Dulcinea." said Quixote,
Who was kibitzing.
"Captain of her crew."
Said Ned.
"Fate." said Queequig, and turned
Over his dead man's cards,
And gathered in the bets.
Said Blue sky,
"I mean from when I knew her,
When we were young, children."
"Best not to open her book."
Said Poe.
"The Dragons know!"
Said Ichi,
Wedging himself a seat at the game.
Queequig gave Ichi the black deck
And stood, joining the onlookers.
"Queequig won't play with Ichi!"
Laughed Shaw.
"She shares her cabin with the girls,
Her siblings, so long as anyone remembers."
Said Poe,
"That page we all know."
"Oh, and with Ichi too
Her cabin she shares."
Said Ned.
"Go fathom.
And now he's dead, and blind,
Winning your cares."
And Blue Sky smiled with Ichi.


Notes: hmmph...again I'm diverted by a thirty one day challenge this time, this month...hashtag inktober, hashtag inktober2017...this is the pen and ink crowd...very different from the plein air bunch...lots of Manga like images with Manga conceits--young girls impaled by swords and such!...that in the mix for Semblance, and a gawdawful MidnightMovie...movieGirlWithTheDragonTatoo2011 which has about every viewing restriction icon a caution...I like detective movies and have watched a spate of them of late...Bosh and True Detective on amazon prime...gawdawful too...oh, and movieMulholland Drive2001, which I had to resort to wiki to know if I actually watched a movie!...there's some strange things Hollywood turns out...there's been a dearth of watchable movies, even by my easy going censor, in the theaters of late...and I'm having to hunt and peck for stuff to rent from amazon...both prime and hbo and just general movies that amazon makes available for like four bucks to rent...just watched the middle one of the Hobbit trilogy...maybe after post watch the first one...I'm very good at consuming movies!...indeed, entertainments of all, it's something of a 180 to try and create things for an audience...hours and hours I'm spending watching tutorial art clips on youtube...time was Bob Ross was it for such on PBS...years and everyone with a pencil is making tutorials!...some so far to make a video for each day of the inktober contest....go youtube, search: needs some kind of algo to censor anyone with the sniffles!...they're much Bob Ross like fun to watch...and there's something so engaging about watching these instruction clips, and attempting pen and ink, plein air, etc., that one is transported away...a happy clam...Dead Man's Hand is a reach back to the beginning of the Black Deck Tales...I have to get a deck of cards and see if such a poker game actually works!




Saturday, September 30, 2017

OTI:three pics, two poems, notes:9/30/17

Open To Interpretation


Pied Piper
I ain't no pied piper
To be want'n' followers,
No saintly martyr
To be bedecked with flowers.

This world's enough
To know my footprints
Wave smoothed from rough;
She laughs away my tints.


Hercules' lion skin was old,
War torn and worn,
Now no more than
A mendicants hooded garb,
And he looked an
Impoverished fool
Running about the battlefield
Shouting something
Incomprehensible to hear
To the soldiers entrenched
On either side.
Theseus' Greeks,
And Minos' Cretans,
Had taken a break,
Too exhausted to retrieve their dead.
Giddy to be alive,
They found amusement in
Watching Hercules chase after a dog,
So far out in the field,
To distant to determine size,
Or who--
The warriors met surprise
When Hercules and Cerberus
In their career
Drew near one side or the other.
Then the warriors fell silent.
Tall Hercules they knew,
The three headed dog they knew of.
Hercules leaned on his knees
To recover his breath,
Said to the hiding,
"I don't suppose you could help
And wrestle down my hound."
No one spoke.
Hercules over them,
Cerberus over Hercules and them;
Cerberus seated, tongues lolling,
Awaiting the game's continuance.
Hercules rose up impatient,
"I suppose not."
And leaned forward
Reaching to grab Cerberus by the scruff.
Hercules said,
And pulled back his hand in pain,
His palm red, bloodied by bites.
Each singular hair
Of Cerberus' coat
Ended in a snake's head.
One warrior,
A bolder sort,
With temerity,
Grabbed up a nearby severed limb
And pitched it far out in the
Corpse strewn field.
Cerberus barked a high pitch
That hammers ears,
And bounded after the arm.
Hercules said,
Slapping the timorous bold
About the head,
Making his eyes red.
"Off we go again!"

Cerberus high barks
Called her litter
And they came running across the field.
Club wielding Hercules
Dispatched the mounted Shades
Back to Hell,
Grateful for something
Straight forward familiar to do.
And the three headed Hounds
Settled in about the field
Like so many
Three headed Ravens.
Three whistles pierced the gloom,
And Cerberus ran to
Arrived with Hermes,
Dragons Cadmus and Hermione.
Gingerly, Cadmus and Hermione
Hovered above Cerberus
And fastened the adamantine collars.
"A handy tune to have,"
Said Hercules to Orpheus,
"Best I learn it."
And Hercules took the leash
From Orpheus.
"This best I hold."
Hercules said.

Notes: posted the # stradaeasel pic is the extras, and third, last pic, is the to where Magnolia Street starts to cross PCH, and thought a war had started!...airshow along Huntington Beach...unexpected...Blue Angels I think...made my last contest plein air a painting of the jets...sorta...:)...Zora, my grand nieces cat, took an interest in my Cerberus sketch...thought myself it looked more like a three headed cat than a dog!

Friday, September 29, 2017

OTI:one poem and notes:9/29/17

Open To Interpretation
Collars And Leash
Beside the creek
On a pleasant afternoon
Some of the crew,
Madeline and Pip,
Watteau and Ned,
Composing new songs,
Challenging the newcomer,
Blue Sky,
Who sat beside Petra.
Laughing at their banter,
"You've met your match,
"Just so." said Blue Sky.
Orpheus, SunCloud,
Stood by and smiled.
Then from nowhere,
Thunder rolled
And the earth shook
And a crack in stone ground
And Orpheus fell into it,
Like a man's shadow
Down a cliff's face,
And gone from the day.

Orpheus wandered among the Shades,
And came up before
One who might know.
"What brings me here,
I thought I had your dispensation,
Said Orpheus.
"Don't get your flute in an uproar,"
Said Hades.
"That still stands.
I have a problem,
Cerberus is loose,
Hercules has given chase,
But headstrong as Hercules is,
He left behind Cerberus' adamantine
Collars and leash.
Cerberus ignores my whistles
But maybe your warbling tweets
She'll answer to."
"I thought Cerberus was male?"
Said Orpheus.
"You thought dead was dead."
Said Hades,
"Take the leash and collars,
Find Hercules."
Orpheus looked overhead,
Up the crack he fell through,
The opening in the dark
Like a distant tiny star.
"How do I get back?"
Said Orpheus.
"Your lyric has a refrain."
Said Hades,
"Call down your Dragons,
Cadmus and Hermione.
Hermes is on his way.
Oh, and they're getting out too."
Added Hades.
Asked Orpheus.
"Cerberus had a litter;
The dead are bounding
Heavenward astride
Three headed hounds."

Orpheus thought long
While he waited among
The somewhat jealous
Incorporeal twittering Shades
Gathered around him
Listening to him sing,
Long forgotten tunes.

"We barely fit
That long chimney.
Wings folded up we dropped."
Said Dragon Cadmus with
Dragon Hermione
"I have become thin."
Said Orpheus.
"If this is to become habit,"
Said Hermes,
"I'll have Hephaestus
Fashion winged shoes
For all your feet.
Added Hermes,
"Another thing, Orpheus,
Hades said.  You'll need to
Whistle thrice."
Said Orpheus,
"Next he'll tell me how to sing.
Enough 'ohs'...
There!...up we go!"
Orpheus hung on
To the adamantine
Collars and leash.

Notes: fussed with the Black Deck Crew in the wee hours...then slept until past 4pm, with an up and down to feed Maya, my dog...didn't eat myself...and so rolled out to Huntington Beach kinda late, like almost five...not going to be much time for the hashtag stradaeasel plein air painting, so on the way thinking how to do a sunset...lay down the oranges and yellows, let them dry, then the blues in the sky...blues over wet oranges are a problem...they turn, nearing the beach, I find the horizon all fog...fog even drizzling...well, this'll be easy and quick, I thought, greys, some greens for the ocean, a few waves...and done before the light is's a long slog across the beach, and with my head down contemplating, didn't know the sky cleared in a band along the horizon...the fog was lifting...not really fog...a low overcast...and the band was going through permutations of orange and yellow...and then the sun a silver coin, becoming the time it reached the horizon, the sky was clear as a bell...a half moon high overhead...made the painting of what I saw first...just the band...and it's okay...but there were all kinds of other paintings in the sky as the sun set...such is plein air!...tomorrow is last day of contest...we post a pic of all the 30 paintings, and I'll post that here tomorrow...have more than thirty, as I did extras with the extra paint on the pallet to start...then just got in the habit of doing two or more...Picasso is said to often have done two of the same, one for himself, one to sell...tonight only time for one...



Wednesday, September 27, 2017

OTI:three poems and notes:9/27/17

Open To Interpretation

Oh, how do I stop their machinations?
So? Why bother? Their news doesn't arrive
At your doorstep like the Daily Nation
Newspaper tossed, a rattlesnake alive.

My fears my tears render the clouds' downpour.
You think the sky sympathetically
Hesitates?  Pausing the torn shorn winds for
Everyone their practicality?

I wear their visage, I bare their burden.
White crosses at sunset beside a road.
They shade against a glaring horizon.
Crowded the roads home, another day sold.

Who the hell poisonous you think you are?
Oh, with their grin, I dare to come this far.

Where become after words alone empty
You can find me, a refrain, an echo,
Or something made nothing then something be
Like a spider web a night surprise 'Oh!'.

Then was our moment, now is all I have
This my memory album, songs sang we.
Begrudge me nothing?  Nothing I dearly save.
This is all my serenade, Destiny, 

What could I know when nothing is to know?
There we were once, and from then gone to when.
This world everyday an old new show.
Maybe is someday come around again.

I didn't plait, my outward look stated,
But from where that then I your night mated.

Ishmael and Dana
Watched the Butterflies and Ducks
While Blue Sky was moored
Beside Petra
Like a Black Ship
Tied to the first buoy
In Harbor's bay.
The creek babbled
And the waterfall roared
While the Ravens
Worried Hawk.
Bobcat hopped up on the
Twin fallen Cedars,
Gave everyone a long look,
And walked across,
Disappearing into the bracken ferns.


Notes: thought to start out with 'Clothing', previous post, to sorta begin another 'sonnet' sequence with just the three four line stanzas and the set rhyme or's not easier that way, especially now having done a few rhymed meter sonnets, I'm always suspicious there is more 'around the bend' if I reach for the rhymes and meters...the conceits usually are there however things are laid, dunno...anyway, early early morning these two rolled out...and a wonder what to do with the Black Deck crew...doing the hashtag stradaeasel thing really is diverting...the thirty day challenge to do a plein air painting each day...kinda pushes poems back away in line...I've stuck to acrylics, and moved from colors to just black and white...and realize I can do what I do with charcoal on newsprint on canvas with black and white acrylics...there is a whole range of things that happen mixing acrylics with water because they dry so fast...everything from very thin wash to a glob of unmixed paint...and the nap of the canvas, the texture, comes into play too...I did one painting on hardboard, and that was along with the paint on the brush drying so fast, the surface being painted on is important, by mischance, I painted over an area where I had experimented with nu pastel, a blue stick, on the canvas...had thought to do pastels on canvas, as stretched canvases are a much stronger and durable ground than mi tientes papers I use when wanting to do archival titanium white didn't quite cover the blue splotch on the canvas, and an interesting effect showed the sky it looks like rain, in foreground reflection of rain...this an ocean scene...and very subtle...what else could I do with pastel, or pastel dust!...can I blow, airbrush pastel, powdered paint, though a straw, a tube, like the ancient cave artists?...get blends and fountains mixing paint dust into the black and white acrylics? experiment, and report to come!...oh, OCPC is taking a 'hiatus' until next year...hmmph...Izzy filled in last year, but is off about the world somewhere...



Thursday, September 21, 2017

OTI:one poem and notes:9/21/17

Open To Interpretation


To play the game
You needed to become
A game piece
A toon
A lovely visual fantasy
Of all your favorite vanities
Tailored clothed
Tailored unclothed
Tailored dance
To your own musicology
Of everything you fancy
Beyond your biology.

Oh, you come away
Still in costume
To walk a sidewalk mile
And make me smile
To see you determined
To make the buildings
Lean and sway
The automobiles
Become saddled fast toon turtles
In a carnival's ride traffic jam whirl.

Oh, that long stare you give me
Like a pursed lip kiss
On some poor cursed frog,
Reminding me how plainly I'm me.

You model your magic for us to draw from,
And we haven't your wand, just what we came with.
Notes: rolled over Tuesday evening to The Gypsy Den...this after sitting a bit at Magnolia Street Beach doing up my daily plein air for the hashtag stradaeasel contest...last few have been just black and white...Russell, the Western painter, painted and drew in black and white for years...charcoal on newsprint drawing is my favorite...and surprisingly, after resorting to black and white because of the frustrations of manipulating acrylic paint, I find that it has many of the properties of drawing with charcoal on newsprint...anyway, at the Den readout 'Salem' and 'Heart'...

Tuesday, September 19, 2017

OTI:three poems and notes:9/19/17

Open To Interpretation
Big Show
Oh, a grim fate,
To be called up from the throng
To dance awhile on stage with you
To snorts and guffaws,
And then the worst--
Kind applause
As I'm mosh pit style
Thrown back to the throng.
A show remembered,
A show forgotten.
I stand at the dock
Watching your Black Ship
Sail off to another Town,
Mine never to be the same.
Such are Pirate raids.
And you would've thought
So many hands
Wouldn't drop a pop fly.

Parmesan cheese on black spaghetti:
Her profanities flavor her tirade--
Purse in one hand, phone in the other.
Sunglasses cover both their eyes--
But she's standing,
And he's down leaned up
Against an abandoned store wall,
Oblivious as a homeless napping.
But on the cement
Their travel luggage--long handles,
Tiny wheels.
Car Radio on, I'm waiting for
The laundry drying done,
So don't quite hear her what about,
My eavesdropping this time
Taken aback--
I talk too much.
But geezus,
What a bitch,
What a bastard.

Black stretch pants,
Short short sleeves
Grey T,
Grey T for him too
Of the slender hips
And dark jeans.
They walk out.
The guitarists'
Open mic nite done.
The host plays one last tune
And I'm out the door too
While the applause tapers...
I want to tell them,
"Maybe you could pose for a photo,
Seeing you look like models.
Here, sit cross legged
Indian style,
On this wide round flower planter's
Colorful tile bench,
Pow wow face to face.
Rest the very top of your
Foreheads one to another,
And pretend in each of your hands
Music manuscripts,
The top edges just touching.
Seen side on you should make then
An upsidedown silhouette heart."
Oh, I haven't my cameras,
And you are strangers too far ahead,
One with her curving meander,
One with his straight and narrow,
Some how making Town's
Night streets a dance floor
For twenty somethings.
Notes: rolled over to Gypsy Den thinking it was OCPC's nite, but no, open mic nite for the guitarists...half a tuna melt with adobe stew...was going  to take home some of the stew, very good, but forgot it and hurried out...the lovely couple looked familiar, but no, someone else, though still familiar somehow...I could have had a viral clip at the laundry mat...she just went on and on in the hot sun looking on on his indifference...Big Show in baseball parlance refers to the major leagues...more than a few untold forgottens bounce up from the minors and bounce right back down, but happily pixie dusted...


Sunday, September 17, 2017

OTI:one poem and notes:9/17/17

Open To Interpretation


"Once a second comes in
For a first,
A third must follow,
A second of the second,
And a fourth follows the third,
A second of the second of the second,
And then a fifth follows the fourth,
A second of the second of the second of the second.
This sequence of five begins over in the event of a tie."
Said Nemo.
"Worms in their burrows,"
Said Petra,
"What are you babbling about, Nemo?"
"Citing the rule book."
Said Nemo.
"The sun behind a cloud,"
Said Petra,
"Orpheus is done then."
"Just so," said Nemo.
"Unless there is a tie.
Then he would come to stage
In the third inning of the second innings."
"We're ahead 4 to 2,"
Said Dana,
"If we win the fourth inning it will be 6 to 2. 
We will be assured a tie
Even if the Hexagons win inning 5,
And their home advantage inning 6.
"True."  Said Nemo.
"The ledge's edge, "
Said Petra,
"Are the innings after a tie, sudden death?
Whoever wins an inning wins?"
"They're something," said Nemo,
"But not sudden.
In the event of a tie, the innings don't end. 
Score is kept, but no one wins, and no one loses."
"What use a round arrow?"
Said Petra,
"And I suppose I remain Judge."
"The whole purpose of the contest,"
Said Nemo, taking a deep breath,
"Is to arrive at a tie.
Then the poets have a nursery,
A back and forth between
Tried and true
Pentagon and Hexagon champions
Making poems
Nurtured by a truer than true Judge."
"Hands on hips!"
Said Petra
"How long has Blue Sky been champion?"
"Since the trade, since you last saw him."
Said Nemo.
"All that while a tie?"
Petra asked.
"No," said Nemo, "he has defeated
All the Pentagon's challengers.
There have been no ties
Over all that long time."
Petra looked across the theater,
Seeing Blue Sky prepared, standing,
Ready to take the stage.
"We will defeat the Hexagons."
Said Petra,
"We have poets.
Poe will be next.
Then, Black Dragon Pet."
At this, Nemo's eyebrows rose.
"What else happens, Nemo,"
Petra continued,
"Besides our being able to go home,
If we win?"
"Blue Sky is ours, his life to do with as we will."
Said Nemo.
"And our champions free too?"
Asked Petra.
"Normally, no," said Nemo,
"But I've arranged a trade for such a contingency,
And William and his players have agreed to it. 
The Pentagons are eager to have him. 
In fact,
The Hexagons are delirious at the prospect--
I've brought them Euripides. 
They've had quite enough of Blue Sky."
"Gordian's knot re-knotted!"
Said Petra.
"And who was the sorry fool
Truer than true Judge all this long while?"
Nemo looked down, said,
"Just so," said Petra.
"And how so not so now...?"
Said Nemo,
"Judges are free to stand down
The contest at their whim."
"But you said..."
Said Petra,
"Deus machina!
Never mind."
Petra went to the stage,
Took her seat,
"The contest is over!"
And ran to Blue Sky,
Hugged him and said,
"You're with us,
We have a Town."
Nemo laughed to see,
And gathered the crew
Aboard BlackSpace Ship Wonder,
Homeward bound,
Minus Euripides,
William and his players,
And too Nemo for a bit
While he presided over
A Hexagons Pentagons contest
Sure to begin in a tie.


Note: Nemo had snagged William Shakespeare and his players from Indie Ship Red Dragon off the shores of Sierra Leone...Verne brought along Euripides aboard the Nautilus awhile back...ral...




Thursday, September 14, 2017

OTI:Ten poems and notes:9/14/17

Open To Interpretation


Dana was feeling a bit flimsy,
Fidgeting with the performance mask
Held in his lowered hands.
"Here," said Ishmael,
"Give the mask to me,
I'll have a go...
Poems are just funny sorta harpoons."


There were Black Dragons all over the sky,
You no where to be found, answer our calls,
Dulcinea, Lenore, looking low and high
Over our embattled Black Ship's red brawls.

To Nevermore and Volcano Never
We sailed, found you astride your new Pet,
Black Dragon Ametrine.  Petra to her,
Your new names changeless changing ever net.

Then Pet returned one day wounded full sore
Brought down by harpoon wheeling clumsy Greeks.
Without solace we stood as one before
The Land Of Nevermore when no one speaks.

From Dragon Pet, you fell to the Ocean.
We flew, sailed, seeking without notion.


Petra sat in her high backed judge's seat,
Thought long, and said,
"'Did I Doubt?", I score a six.
'Petra', I score a six.

After Two

"So," Nemo announced,
"After two innings,
The score is tied.
Hexagons 2,
Pentagons 2."

Petra rejoined her crew.
"What the hell?" asked Ishmael.
"'Petra' had but one line of merit."
Said Petra.
"And what of mine?" asked Dana,
"Did you score it true?"
"I was taken,
It stands as it stands."
Said Petra,
"I had no notion of the rules."
"Just so,"
Said Nemo,
"The Hexagons discerned, and have a card to play, arguably,
If a cheat can be construed as naivety."
"What to do?"
"They have a poet!"
Said Dana.
"Send Orpheus into the list."
Said Jason.
"Just so." said Ariadne.

 Inning Three

Songsingingbird, you made the Dragons fold their wings,
Nightingale, leave off from all they had stolen,
Troubadour, only to find you and I sold things,
Serenader, traded away from now to then,
Roundalay, and so forever no Town nothings.
Destiny, these poets' chains my untold reignings.

Orpheus could manage some corporeality, and carried the performance mask with him up onto the stage.  But when he put it to his face, it fell through him down to the floor.  The seated Hexagons turned pale.  Their spokesman protested.
"A champion is a champion,
Alive or dead."
Said Blue Sky,
"Let him continue."
The spokesman thought long,
And took his seat.


Incorporeal my lyre can sing
And brought  'round the dead, stopped from shuffling.
To Hades dismay, his pet underling,
Cerberus, thrice barking too joined my ring,

Howled the chorus shaking Hell's ceiling.
Fallen leaves shook, beside the Styx rustling,
Waves and waves rocked the ferryman's boating;
Hades shocked no new forlorn arriving.

"A funny kind of lyric you're singing
To make my macabres slow dirge waltzing
Stop.  Take your girl without backward glancing,
Join blue sky, leave fated to their reeling."

Who's to say among the Worlds' glancings
Mine was the one to return Hell's dancings?


Petra judged
Blue Sky five
Orpheus five.

The Hexagon spokesman rose up in protest,
""Stop' has too many lines."
He said.
"Leave it be," said Blue Sky,
"Least Orpheus whistle up Cerberus."
And at that the Hexagon spokesman sat.

Inning Three

"Inning three:
Hexagons 2
Pentagons 4."
Said Nemo.


Notes:...rolled out Tuesday to OCPC at Gypsy Den and read out 'Turtle Island'...proofs of Elizabethans came in mail from I had that, my own chap book, to read my poem from...can't begin to say what a roundabout circuitous way it has been to arrive straight up with my own self published book in hand...



Sunday, September 10, 2017

OTI:one poem and notes:9/10/17

Open To Interpretation
Bounding Main
from Black Dragon Lore...
BlackSpace Ships are the masters of up and down.  Falling down is well understood, and defines 'understood' when one takes a fall.  Not so well understood is how BlackSpace Ships go up, 'fall up' as it were. 
Passenger reports, and passenger reports are few, report that one experiences a 180--up can be down and down can be up. 
And then there is the 'skew'.  Pressed between up and down, like an orange seed between two fingers, a BlackSpace Ship can squirt forward, or backwards, or any direction, like a sailboat can tack into the wind, or run before it. 

BlackSpace Ships spend their time parked above the Earth above Earth's air.  They like the sunlight there, and the view. 
And some think they communicate with other BlackSpace Ships around other Earths around other Suns.  And they await the occurrence of festivals.  And when one is occurring they favor, BlackSpace Ships 'jump' to the Moon.  Every Earth has a Moon, or Moons.  And from their Earth's Moon, from on it, or from inside it, no one has been able to ascertain, BlackSpace Ships jump to another Star's Earth's Moon to that other Earth and the Earthbound festival they seek. 
And there one is, from near here to far there, as easily as falling down, or up, as it were.
This manner of things was reported by the Petra Expedition to the Poets' Worlds' Festival, and the contest between the Pentagons and the Hexagons.
Notes: reference song, 'Sailing, sailing, over the bounding main...' ...ral...

Saturday, September 9, 2017

OTI:three poems and notes:9/9/17

Open To Interpretation

The Hexagon's champion,
Wearing the performance mask,
Stood alone on the stage,
And read out his second poem.

Did I Doubt?

Harbinger, did I doubt, hesitate, turn turtle,
Prophecy, a moment indecisive slack sailed,
Foreshadow, back away apprehensive, churl,
Augurer, weak kneed deliberate turn tailed?
Destiny, remained I beside you steadfastly,
Providence, all this long time inconsolably.


Among the semicircle terraced stone benches,
One central seat had a backrest,
Reserved for the contest judge.
There Petra sat, listening,
And at the Hexagon's champion's poem's end,
Lowered her face into her hands and wept. 
Inconsolable, as it were,
She got up and went to be with her crew.
"What's amiss?"
Asked Ishmael.
"He knows my names, and I know him."
Said Petra.
She looked to Black Dragon Onyx.
She asked Onyx,
Onyx looked long at Nemo.
"An old trade."
Said Nemo.
Dana stood before Petra,
Holding the performance mask.
"Who is he?"
Asked Dana.
Petra turned away from Nemo and Onyx.
"When we were together,"
Said Petra,
"The Black Dragons raided our Town,
Treasure seeking.
Our Town Seer foretold that
If my friend and I sang to the Dragons,
They would leave off.
The Dragons listened
The Dragons favored.
We were taken to live
In the Northern Reach.
I was to be the
Northern Black Dragon's Queen.
"And your friend?"
Asked Ishmael.
"He was taken elsewhere,
I never knew."
Said Petra.
"A game we played with names,
Giving one another titles and such.
His favorite name for me was Destiny.
My favorite for him was Blue Sky.
Blue Sky is the Hexagon's champion.
I didn't recognize him,
Masked as he is when he performs.
Last we were together was
When we sang to the Dragons.
We were afraid, but learned
Black Dragons aren't scary,
Just clumsy in their pursuit of treasures."
Petra tuned to look at
Black Dragon Onyx.
"What can I say, Dulcinea?"
Onyx said.
"You've known all along."
Said Petra.
"For some forgotten bauble
We traded Blue Sky to Nemo."
Said Onyx.
"The poets needed a poet,"
Said Nemo,
"A thing difficult to explain.
The poets sent scouts
Far and wide to find one.
One of their scouts heard you
And Blue Sky sing
To the Black Dragons.
I was the poet's agent,
And arranged the trade with
The Black Dragons.
Petra looked long at Nemo.
"Are you a poet?"
Nemo looked down.
"You were the scout."
Said Petra.
"Just so." said Nemo.
"Have you brought me here
To lose me here?"
Asked Petra.
Nemo looked down,
"What I am I am,
Where you will be
You will be."
Said Nemo.


Notes: rolled over to Huntington State Beach for day eight of hashtag stradaeasel plein air contest...tried to depict sun rays coming through clouds on to the ocean...for a moment there was like a perfect and very distinct cone..too slow with camera...and too clumsy with the acrylic paints...




Thursday, September 7, 2017

OTI:one poem and notes:9/7/17

Open To Interpretation

Six for Sixes, Five for Fives

"For poem 'Second Birth', I judge a five."
Said Petra,
Looking confident,
Like she had gotten the hang of the contest rules.
Nemo whispered,
"There are only two scores you can give, Five and Six."
"Swallow a worm and choke,"
Said Petra,
"How so?"
"Hexagon poems,"
Said Nemo,
"Can only be awarded a Six.
Pentagon poems can only be awarded a Five.
If you award a Hexagon poem a Five,
It is dismissed, it is dross.
If you award a Six, it is kept, and counts for one score.
And it is likewise for the Pentagon's poems;
A Six score and the poem is a loss, a Five is success."
"Caterpillars upside down,"
Said Petra,
"Poets are a sorry lot.
Whereby these rules?"
"These rules are rules,
Without birth or death."
Said Nemo.
"I thought both poems Fives,"
Said Petra,
"The contest tied."
"Not so,"
Said Nemo,
"The Pentagons are two up.
A poem lost is a score for the opposite side."
"The candle is out,"
Said Petra,
"Where are we?"
"Top of the second inning,"
Said Nemo.
"Hexagons zero,
Pentagons two."


Notes: rolled out to Huntington State Beach...and just that quick the current changed a little, surf flat...and the water cool!...only got my feet wet cleaning brushes and getting buckets of water...thought to swim, but hadn't eaten all day except for a bagel...and the water was cool!...anyway, did up the plein air day 7 hashtag stradaeasel contest post to facebook...I bought a collapsible water the army surplus store...had to laugh walking a little over the, so, maybe tomorrow I load everything into a day pack, peddle my bike to the bus...and off to who knows where for the day!



Wednesday, September 6, 2017

OTI:three poems and notes:9/6/17

Open To Interpretation

The Contest Begins
Impossible, unlike you I'm possible, so,
Beautiful, not likely engaging like you,
Destiny, I without my certified fate, go,
StarryChild, with just my cerulean sky blue,
Nocturnal, I've waited eternally for one,
Luminous, night my day forever make undone.


Petra listened, her eyebrows raised,
As the Hexagon champion finished his first poem,
"Who is he?"
Asked Petra.
"Some Greek."
Said Jason.
Petra looked to Jason and his crew inquisitively.
"And...that's all you know?"
She asked.
"It's Greek..."
Said Orpheus,
"...the meter and such."
"He seems to know"
Said Petra.
"Poets trick,"
Said Nemo.
"Trick or not, that was to me..."
Said Petra.
"So tricks seem to everyone..."
Said Nemo.
"Was it any good?"
Asked Petra.
"How can I judge? 
I'm like in his sights."
"His poems' merit will stand,"
Said Nemo,
"When stood beside our champion's poems'."
"But the rules say I must judge now,
And I've yet to hear
The Pentagon's challenger."
Said Petra.
"The Hexagons have home advantage,
And so set the bar with the first inning."
Said Nemo.
"Oh, why am I the only judge?"
Asked Petra.
"For one thing,"
Said Nemo,
"For being truer than true.
And two, it's an advantage given
The visiting Pentagons."
Said Nemo.
"How so?"
Said Petra.
Said Nemo,
"If the Hexagons used their own judge,
Being at home as they are,
Their judge would cheat."
"And if I cheat?"
"You would become theirs and could never leave."
Said Nemo.
Petra looked at Nemo with scorn.
"You are like a cat that brings a lizard one day, a bird the next."
Said Petra.
"Yes," admitted Nemo.
"And there's more."
"When isn't there more from you?"
Said Petra, standing arms akimbo now.
Nemo continued,
"If the Pentagon champion loses,
The Hexagons take his life."
"I can see the arrow still descends..."
Said Petra.
"And the Hexagon champion marries you."
Said Nemo.
"Grey gloom eternal..."
Said Petra.
"Just so." said Nemo,
"But all will be fine.
When the Pentagons win,
The poets' world will be restored, at peace,
Or what passes for such hereabouts,
And we can go home.
Nemo finished with a wan smile.
"And who is the Pentagon's champion,
Does he know me too?"
Said Petra.
Said Nemo,
"Ishmael is his second."
"This isn't just grey gloom,
This is doom itself."
Said Petra.
"Just so." said Nemo.
"A five then, for the Hexagons."
Said Petra,
"Let's begin."

Second Birth

From the foam you found us seaweed covered
Brothers bound twinned in fortunes second birth
Having storm sunk our eyes death discovered
To then see yours lowered to ours in mirth,
And know again our world's round laughing girth.


Notes: (update: in Impossible...'go' for 'do'...H. missed a rhyme!) ...I've been diverted...September first began the thirty day plein air painting contest presented by Strada Easel manufacturer...this on facebook...I don't know how facebook management reacts to such things, but it's clicking on 'hashtag' stradaeasel, a notation each artist puts in the photo post up of each day's effort, one is taken to all the contestants efforts...I didn't know how hashtags work...keep seeing them in the twitter posts in the news...but I don't twitter...anyway, prizes awarded will be plien air Strada easels...and I have to laugh, today I figured out how to do without an easel...from the first day, and way back in art classes, I just take up a canvas or board from behind with one hand, and with brush in my other hand, go at it...I hold the painting like a pallet I guess...and that's kind of a technique I'm trying to acquire, to mix my colors on the painting like it IS a, anyway, with small canvases I can jamb my hand in the back, and keep it steady, or, what I learned today, I can use miniature bungee chords attached to a board's sides, and grip the chords behind the painting...that I was at Huntington Beach, and it was too windy anyway for an easel...I have a nice French easel...but realize with my hand holding technique, for the small canvases/boards that plien air paintings are usually on, it's kind of superfluous!...kind of an important innovation for me, as by illiminating the easel, I can climb onto a public bus much easier...I can ride the busses to the ocean towns for next to nothing with a senior bus pass...Silver the jeep needs way too much expensive gasoline!, I did my daily doesn't have to be complete, just some progress day to day, and I put my flippers on and waded out into the surf, which was way way too warm...I haven't been in the ocean for like fifteen years...and even when I left off for the Sierra, the ocean then was too is even warmer now...believe me, I have ocean temperature recollections going back to the 1960s...early September is always the warmest, but soon the waves will be coming from north westerly and cold...or they used too...LA/OC beaches are odd, as they face kind of south...the curve of the coast line being such hereabout...I made a discovery hopping in the swimming pool a week or so tendon cinched up hands can't paddle anymore when I fact, I can't swim anymore!...nearly floundered when I got in to the deep end over my head in the swimming pool...time was I could tread water for ten minutes holding ten pound lead diving weights in each of our scuba diving training exercises...I might still be able to do that, but I've kind of forgotten how!...and until I remember how, I need to wear swim fins!, I had my flippers on and was backing into the surf, thinking to kick out to the second break, which is further out, and a shoulder high shore break caught me, and pushed me down and right back up to the surf's edge...and I laughed and laughed...I have to start all over again...I took the fins off, and walked back out to waist deep and just let the shore break waves knock me around...I'm being reconditioned...back at the parking lot, I saw another old fellow on his bike with his foam body board...and we gave one another a time I'll have my foam body board along...picked up from the beach, and rolled over to the Gypsy Den...bit late...but a sympathy slot opened, and I read out Impossible and Second Birth...hadn't titled them yet, and tried to explain their context, which is just impossible!...




Thursday, August 31, 2017

OTI:one poem and notes:8/31/17

Open To Interpretation
How Long?
"How long will this take?"
Asked Petra.
Said Nemo.
Nemo hung his head down, and looked glum,
As did Ishmael and Dana
Who had already been told,
As well as the crews.
They all knew, 
An impasse could come to pass.
Petra tapped her foot, said,
"How long awhile?"
"The Pentagons will have their say
In five at bats.".
Explained Nemo.
"The Hexagons have six,
So their home advantage,
Unless there is in the judges' eyes
A tie."
"And what then?" asked Petra.
"Then, it could go on forever."
Said Nemo.
"And who is to judge?"
Asked Petra.
"You are."
Said Nemo, looking at the sky.
"And with all our counsel to help you!"
Ishmael and Dana were quick to add.
"Aye, all of us!" said the crews.
"Hmmph," said Petra,
"Truer than true I am,
And my own judgement dread."
"Not to be dismayed..."
Said Nemo,
"We've brought William along
With his dancing harpoon,
His players as well to carry his tunes."
Nemo gathered himself,
And came to the matter:
"It's a poetry contest on a poets' world,
As tedious as some,
More extensive than most. 
Our five sided wights are sure to win,
Send the Hexagons into snowy fury."
"Best you all do,
Or we're a snowball forever."
Said Petra.
The Black Dragons listened,
And we're eager to be on,
Such their fascination for humankind's warblings."


Notes:...I reached a point where I can give the sonnets a pause, I think...there's over fifty now, and I can make the chap book of them at Creative Space...and pick up again with the Black Deck Tales...those too I need to get into chap books...I think I have four now on the road to twelve, or twenty four!...the sonnets are one of the BDT books...hard to describe what I'm about!...hopefully, as things progress things will be self evident...anyway...the furnace fan came on again...just the fan...pop had the neighbor do something to make it come on in hot weather...and I cant figure out how to shut it off...air circulating is stuffy...bit of a mystery why it came on just's been hot since first of July...and I just disconnected the wiring like I did last summer...thought to look up new furnaces...eight thousand to install combo in California...I dunno...looks as simple to me as a water heater...been there done those a's hot...