art & writing from South 40 Pier
Spring 2022
Winter 2021
Fall 2021
This month I am sharing a couple chapters from my unpublished book, “Last Voyage Of The Redlegs."
Click on the link and you’ll find two chapters that are downloadable PDFs. They are “Lost World Of Innocence ,” and “Exile.” It takes little time to download and there’s a blank page at the beginning of Lost World.
I would love to hear your feedback.
http://lastvoyageoftheredlegs.wordpress.com/2011/12/31/last-voyage-of-the-redlegs/
a SoFo Exquisite Corpse collective ekphrastic poem
What is the sound of one hand clapping
It moved it seemed
it left but left no prints
Something happened here
She heard them,
they didn’t think she had but they were wrong
What is the sound of one laborer clapping
Restless glove syndrome
Ooops. Lost. Contact me.
What is the sound of one glove missing?
July 2021
Family road trip, circa late 60s
June 2021
May 2021
On display in the San Luis Obispo Museum of Art from May 29th till August 1st
as part of SUPERCOLLIDER's exhibit "Atmospheres Deep".
Published by Come and Go Literary, Winter 2018
April 2021
Published by Riddled with Arrows
http://www.riddledwitharrows.com/rwa-4-1-message-in-a-bottle/explore-the-caves/#steps_of_stone
March 2021
Photo by Gigi Sims (née Carroll), caption by Maureen Orth, early 1970s
Free Verse Departure
Poets bring nothing to the party.
They don't even ask.
They show up on time or late.
They get lost.
They say they're coming but don't.
They arrive in time for food,
stand in a corner and drink.
Never take off their coat.
Then strip to a t-shirt
and talk about Bird, things
you've never heard as Parker
plays on your Alexa.
Sometimes poetry breaks out.
Someone picks up a guitar.
There's action on the roof.
Shy cats come out of hiding.
An enormous radish is carved into art.
Memory floats up from an afternoon
in Oaxaca, 1984 ~
The houseboat rises, warms.
Everyone leaves all at once in
a free verse departure.
Sink full of dishes.
Someone leaves a hat.
The night itself becomes a poem.
And guess what?
That's what the poets brought.
Cover art by Arthur Johnstone
February 2021
In-camera double exposure; Dec 18th 2020. Part of the series "Salty Chic", my ode to Sausalito's waterfront: the magic of the symbiosis of salty and chic.
Floating in the shadows of the ferry where a famous master once zenned, lived a sippy monk on a tippy barge called The China Sea. Each morning he walked the planks with a satisfied shrug, then untied koans of kelpy line until noon. At lunch he played chess with the seagulls on a skiff, and when high tide arrived, he paddled to the No Name for beer and read Li Po until 2. No books were written about him. No one came to his door. But his elegant wisdom glittered like sea glass on the ocean floor. Lifting a conch shell to his ear, he heard the whisper of the universe. Placing the shell to his lips, he answered its call.
January 2021