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Sarah Rosenthal: California Poets Part 8, Three Poems


Sarah Rosenthal

January 8th, 2025

California Poets: Part VIII

Sarah Rosenthal

Three Poems



I Am Compelled to Create the Circle

(written in response to Sandra Murphy-Pak’s painting Atmosphere)

 

I am compelled

            pull, sweep, avalanche

                        names and stories

 

the troposphere’s ash and dust

            taxing and strenuous

                        branch, roar, stream

 

locate sky diagrams

            silver-blue night glow

                        start mixing color

 

drag, swim, catapult

            through layers of burn and freeze

                        above the stratosphere

 

I’ve always danced

            bend, flex, wriggle

                        apply the paint

 

of shooting stars

            I landed here

flicker, drift, ripple                 

 

awash in blue-green auroras

            stretch through the thermosphere

                        on a black background

 

squirm, surge, deluge

what wants to be known

                        above the exopause

 

to create the circle

slither, burn, float      

                        merge with matter



Sandra Murphy-Pak Atmosphere

Foot painting, mixed media & chalk paint on board

8 x 8 x 1 inches



Bloodflower

(written in response to Melissa Stephens’ painting Daily Remembrance)

  

There      bottom center

of the canvas

                      the rest

of the painting

entices      green

alphabet      blue

worlds      yellow

daffodil ducklings

but this burgeoning

blossom commands

 

Blood-hued

bloom signals

emergency      a

man rushes into

hospital waiting

room      clutches

bicep      crimson

ooze      “Anyone seen

a doctor?!” We sit

stunned, useless

he rushes on

 

Or an urgent

silence      placid-

faced teen sits

on friend’s floor

others smoke

and chat      she

meticulous        scrapes

a razored valentine

into inner thigh

blots excess

 

Or emergence

redslicked

animal slides into

view      emits first

howl      cord cut or bit      sheen

wiped or licked

bundle placed on

waiting chest to

meet, rest, breathe

 

Signals broken

container      the poke

and draw      wince

or peek as vial

fills      blood

oranges beckon

from grocery bin

mosquito gorges

swat and scratch

bleach white shorts

worn on a moon

day      wonder if

ruby beet juice

can be scrubbed

from a cutting

board

 

Bloodpeony

insists      can we

look away from

this thumbprint

festival, flouncing

dance      precious

vintage uncorked

for our occasion

 

Can we      we

can      but we will

stay      right here

surrender      return

the gaze




Melissa Stevens Daily Remembrance

Encaustic collage on panel

8 x 6 x 2 inches



Conserve

(written in response to Ruth Boerefyn’s 2018 ArtemisSF installation)


Like god got

orderly or

the wind did,

not belief but

faith, not faith

but service,

not service

but walk

and work

 

*


*

 

 

To walk, to

crunch leaves under

feet, to step,

stroll, stride, to

walk, to take

a walk where

one hasn’t been,

to study fungi,

feel breeze, see

patches of sky

through trees, to

saunter or stride,

encounter lichen

on fallen trunk

spot a nest,

another, another

nest and feel

flutter, where you

are, haven’t

been, where you’ve

arrived, this

place

 

 

To return, to a

room, an abode,

the place of one’s

abiding, to get

to work, sliver,

sweep, stitch,

diligent, without

cease, without

thought to increase,

to slice, fold and

smooth, gather,

to mold, to sand,

to cut, durable

infinitives of

the daily, to make,

to make do, to

conserve, to

use what’s given,

tuck, trim, clip,

rip, shape, the

mind plies

memories like

mending

 

 

*

 

 

To be a hole punched out and drifting to the floor to meet countless ones, to be stepped on and tracked, to be a heap of nothing gathered in a crevasse, in a row of crevasses,

 

To be a mistake rescued, reused, measured and cut, dampened and bent, rubber-banded, left to dry, stacked against dozens or hundreds of ones, a row of pastel questions, a vessel or lens, a hollow log to rest on or curl in,

 

To be a book in a row of books, waiting to be reached for, opened,

 

To be shaved, a shaving, to be gathered, swept into a heap with a thousand others, to rest here, amassed into a bird’s nest, blossom, mushroom,

 

To be dirt, detritus, leavings, to be nothing, join the commonwealth of nothings,

 

 

*

 

 

encode this

in her

future fingers









Photo credit: Sarah Rosenthal

 

Author Bio:

Sarah Rosenthal's books include Manhatten, Estelle Meaning StarLizardA Community Writing Itself: Conversations with Vanguard Writers of the Bay Area, and two collaborations with Valerie Witte: The Grass Is Greener When the Sun Is Yellow and the forthcoming One Thing Follows Another: Experiments in Dance, Art, and Life Through the Lens of Simone Forti and Yvonne Rainer. Her collaborative film We Agree on the Sun won Best Experimental Short at the 2021 Berlin Independent Film Festival. She and her collaborators recently completed a second film, Lizard Song. More at sarahrosenthal.net.

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