Stage Mama



Had thoughts of abandoning this blog as I am busy, and, unfortunately, now addicted to Facebook. For now, I will continue weekly additions as this blog keeps me connected to poetry and keeps me writing.

The boy is writing an EXCELLENT story, it's weird and surreal and funny. For all his protesting he will never be a writer like his poverty stricken mother, he IS a writer. He has been going to an open mic for teens on Saturday nights and will be reading his story there next week. I'm not allowed to attend of course, but perhaps I will lurk in the back where he can't see me. I am so proud of both my kids...Kate recently kicked butt playing a racist, southern old man defendent in a school trial based on the book Shiloh. Her teacher says she is a joy to teach! Thank you God for giving them each something of their own to be passionate about.

The Dog of Art

That dog with daisies for eyes
who flashes forth
flame of his very self at every bark
is the Dog of Art.
Worked in wool, his blind eyes
look inward to caverns and jewels
which they see perfectly,
and his voice
measures forth the treasure
in music sharp and loud,
sharp and bright,
bright flaming barks,
and growling smoky soft, the Dog
of Art turns to the world
the quietness of his eyes.

Denise Levertov