A Midwife’s Memoir Penned in Tears What cruel adulterate alchemy Did torture this alembic, thy womb! Were not the frost the bane of elder days? Not so, alas: The winter’s droplet hath Betimes imbued thy still‐distilling spring, And given unto budding life A deathly flowering.   *** Some of these words are archaic. See this…

Bound   Past and Future Bound in a moment of Time and Ties as in what slips away and what binds us charred and woven carved into and out from marking change in scrawl and nails ritual scars Intended to liberate us drawing us into places finding ourselves hooked by Gemma Benton Hooked, 2003, Painted…

Cenotaphic Ana   No, this isn’t where she’s interred; Here you see a mere cenotaph Of resin, wood, and gauzy cloth That’s but a monumental word Declaring she walked and was A combatant in life’s long war And now she’s buried evermore.     Anton Z. Nemeth Ana Revisited, 2001, Mixed media

Chine   Feel  it   in    the     bones      discs      fail     joints    not   quite  aligned trying   for   the vertical   within    softly  eroding flesh.   by Taylor Graham Chine, c. 2005, Mixed media

Dark Rough Memories A tribute to Claudine Grantham   All the manufactured items of the world Last for a while and then are randomly swirled By human tossing or Nature’s elements Into time’s rivers, there to be sediments Seen on beaches, shores, lots, and hillsides strewn, And what once was cut, planed, formed and careful…

Golden   A golden case, frame of gathers & folds & pleats & intricately artfully designed by an unseen mind; smooth surfaces polished mirror-bright by invisible hands to form this perfect         golden         resting         place recessed within the artful box, for whom? so deep within, we can’t see the eyes. Is anyone in…

His Face   Must wood and metal hold him together, hold his face inside themselves? But see how well-worn weaves of fiber stretch, reach with frayed edges seeking to join the unyielding with supple fabric of life. Cracked, 2006, Mixed media

Just off the Trail She walks thru a tunnel,              portal to a different world where she disappears up hardpan paths.   Woodland textures Aae speaking to her hands, bare branches she’s lined up for a fence   camo’d by straw sunburned brown, lumber once a door now a bed for sleeping, salvaged cast-offs.  …

METALSOM  It’s a brass torso Details riveted and Attached baffles Giving a burnt patina, Extruding, somewhat painful wire Around ribs’, ‘n exhibited inducement To reveal full customer list; Plus, source identities of all involved In unnamed substance distribution. After the chain sawing of neck and legs- Remains tossed over the freeway To horrified passing traffic;…

Perspective Am I in the womb or a coffin? Am I about to be born or buried? Am I hemmed in by these walls or protected by them? Is this my prison or my place of safety? Is this a window to my soul? Or am I simply on display? Am I vulnerable in my…