Friday, March 21, 2014

An Abundance of Absurdities
Hieronymus Bosch
The Concert in the Egg

we make do with what we find

chipping away to gain purchase

ethereal laughter always taking root

from the inside first

tending to flocks

adorned in their own absurdities

their song 

one on my own making

imprinted before the first crack was sighted

i lead only because i cannot follow

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2014

Monday, March 17, 2014

John William Waterhouse, Miraanda

the sea claims its own

incessantly murmuring

opening dreaming doors

bent upon hinges

that have felt the salt's long lick

while we all wait along its shore

hug it ravenously

as time stills itself

in hope of return

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2014

Wednesday, March 12, 2014

A Fork in the Road

Irises, Van Gogh

she read my cards once
when i was a tall willowy blond of 20

and told me that two roads were open to me

one based on my looks

and one not

and that each held its consequences


happiness was to be found

only on one of these.

choices are good.

i only look back sometimes

to recall that fork in my path.

i took the one less trod upon

i'll leave you to guess which.

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2014 

At Poets United we are looking prescience. Come join us.

Saturday, March 8, 2014

The uncertainty of tears
Katsushika Hokusai
Cargo ship and wave 1805

Waves swollen like tears upon leaves

burst each one

upon spiked lashes of 


a universe pulled into a black hole of certitude

its retreat pungent 

upon my cheek

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2014

Sunday, March 2, 2014

In Search of Expression
Gustave Courbet, 1841
Portrait of Juliette Courbet as a  Sleeping Child

Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.

Robert Frost

Dreams flit around the periphery of consciousness
finding their home
in pockets of reverie
before sleep leaves the sleeper

and in those fragile moments in which sleeper remains so bound

emotion fingers the soft tendrils of thought

its search for expression

a lingering bit of fog

in which we find our best, and most deep

sense of ourselves on paper.

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2014

Thank you to those who thrive in the Garden