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sbpoet
The Spangly Web
Introvert. Poet. Blogger. Snapshotter. Etsy Shop-Keeper.
Interests: politics, literature, poetry, goddess-daughter; pseudo-niece; speculative fiction, science, faith & reason, philosophy, Gaia, art, architecture, the nature of good & evil, interior design, objects, human nature, feminism, gender, animal nature, illness, chronic fatigue syndrome (CFIDS), fibromyalgia, ME/CFS/PVFS (Myalgic Encephalopathy/Chronic Fatigue Syndrome/Post Viral Fatigue Syndrome), liminality, technology, the feminine divine, animal intelligence, morality, mortality, ethics, physics, metaphysics, string theory, aging, atheism, the nature of consciousness, creativity, cats, dogs, introversion, psychology, photography, fundamentalism, gardening, goldfish, haiku, happiness, sexuality, identity, intimacy, creativity, language, logic, memory, the muse, nature|nurture, narcissism, altruism, neuroscience, quantum theory, spirituality, web design, writing
Recent Activity
Respectable black, or sporty white? The black with red racing stripes? Maybe. Yellow? Cheerful, but a bit naive. Butterflies, hearts, flowers? Not my thing. The old ones were slightly frayed, but functional, until the dog peed on them. Baby blue? Too sweet. Navy blue? Too staid. Here are some striped with the colors of sports teams. Not for me. Plastic in rainbow colors? Too trendy. Neon pink? Garish. Lime green? Nope. Those cheap ones broke while I was tying my shoe. Perhaps I’ll just go barefoot. Continue reading
Posted Apr 4, 2017 at Watermark
In preparation for the lean season, I gather my memories. Some ripe and sweet as childhood, others in neglected, unwatered corners, withered and stone-hard. Some offer themselves freely, some hide in thistles and thorns. This basket grows heavy. Winter is coming. But not today. Continue reading
Posted Apr 2, 2017 at Watermark
one should not have to reminisce alone you on the sofa, carving wood curls at your feet my white cat across your shoulders big cat bigger shoulders how we laughed walking together small town streets brushing through slurs me in my bell jar of privilege what i did not see white blindness arms entwined white black bodies entwined chiaroscuro i ask why you keep playing through injuries, surgeries, pain you ask why i keep studying through exhaustion & disillusion no difference you say the night i learned to not startle you awake combat marine your patient teaching heart-breaking world-breaking your... Continue reading
Posted Apr 1, 2017 at Watermark
My grandmother was born in 1890. On her deathbed, she gripped my hand and told me her greatest regret. This was not, as one might expect from a life-long Christian, daily-Bible-reading woman, the illegal back-alley abortion she had to save her life, and not leave her three young children motherless. I don't doubt that she regretted the loss of that child, but she did not regret living to raise the three children of her body, her foster son, and, as it turned out, me. No, not that. She told me, "I regret allowing myself to be frightened into voting for... Continue reading
Posted Feb 20, 2017 at Watermark
My little dog had a binky, a soft blue toy he carried everywhere, upstairs & down, inside & out, into his crate at bedtime, & if he lost it, he was frantic, tiny black dustmop searching every- where, coming to me with pleading eyes, but then last week he really did lose it, perhaps – filthy old thing – tossed by cleaners or forgotten & buried in two feet of snow, so finally he chose – instead of the identical blue toy, purchased at the same time from the same place – a neon pink rubber ball, carried about in... Continue reading
Posted Jan 27, 2017 at Watermark
I want to explore what is out of sight. Deeper down. Higher up. I want to explore what casts those shadows on my wall. To explore whose is that perfect form. I cannot look at it straight but only slant, with shaded eyes. I want to discover how many more layers are here? How many memories? How many lives? What if I had turned another way? Which way now? Call that path Un-Knowing. Continue reading
Posted Jan 18, 2017 at Watermark
It was early spring, but plenty cold, frost on the ground, and I was running to the outhouse, jeans unzipped unsnapped unbuckled, holding them up with my hands, running to be first, when I saw it. Perched on top of the outhouse, it was huge, like a giant bat, dark and furred, with long fangs and its breath fogging around its forked tongue. I stopped like I’d hit a wall and my jeans fell around my feet and I peed on them as I fell over, flat on my face on the cold ground. Then I heard hollering as Juner... Continue reading
Posted Jan 13, 2017 at Watermark
The icefield stretches beyond viewing. Buried within, bodies of insects and animals. Forgotten wars. It melts, freezes, melts. At the edge, a picnic celebrates the end of civilization. An animal turns on the spit. Another awaits the slaughter. Humans dance, praying to their multiple gods. Bells and tambourines ring. Balloons and dragon kites decorate the sky. Soon, all will drown, sink down in salty water, freeze, melt, freeze. Continue reading
Posted Jan 10, 2017 at Watermark
Today we viewed the holos of the new people. If they are people. Their bodies are vertically elongated. They move on two appendages. This is the only thing about them we can admire, such amazing balance. They are otherwise awkward, ugly. They have no fur, except a bit at the top of their bodies. Their skin is dull, with some tonal variety, but all sand, dust, soil. They wrap up in artificial color. They do not speak. They communicate with sound waves produced by their bodies. The exo-linguists insist this is language. Though the upper limbs have moveable appendages, apparently... Continue reading
Posted Jan 7, 2017 at Watermark
I am in the last December. Those who have traveled this far feel the coldness, the freeze in the joints, the stiffness of limbs. I have seen companions sit down, at last, finally, on the ice, gesturing the rest of us on. We go on. Slow and stumbling on numb feet, we carry our frost-bitten hearts through winter. Holding fast to each other, we go on. Continue reading
Posted Jan 5, 2017 at Watermark
Posted Jan 4, 2017 at Watermark
I cannot protect it. The Constitution. The Bill of Rights. The planet: tigers, elephants, bees. All the children of the world. I feed these small dogs, these cats, myself. I turn up the heat against this mountain winter. Ice blades hang from the eves. My narrow life. Continue reading
Posted Jan 3, 2017 at Watermark
When a door is closed, I shall not scratch, pound, pull, push, yowl. I shall sit politely and await arrival of The Servant. I shall clean myself thoroughly, especially my glorious paws, before exploring the kitchen counters. I shall restrain myself when head-bumping; The Servant is a fragile beast. When pinning It down, stretching out my big beautiful body atop The Servant, holding Its neck between my paws, I shall purr magnificently to assure It I intend no harm. When patting Its face, to remind It of some neglected duty, I shall keep my claws retracted. I shall not sharpen... Continue reading
Posted Jan 2, 2017 at Watermark
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A new year, a time for resolutions. Resolutions like: I shall post on my blog regularly again. I'm not doing resolutions, but I am doing maybe intentions. Among those, of course, is: I might post on my blog regularly again. Also, I'm maybe doing The Daily Poet: The Daily Poet: Day-By-Day Prompts For Your Writing Practice (Published by Two Sylvias Press) offers a unique writing prompt for every day of the year. Created by poets for poets, this calendar of exercises offers inspiration and a place to begin. Whether you are a novice or well-established author, The Daily Poet is... Continue reading
Posted Jan 2, 2017 at Watermark
For Tangie Baxter’s Art Journal Emporium, and, coincidentally, for Take A Word. #artjournal #digitalartjournaling #digitalart #artjournalcaravan #artjournalemporium Continue reading
Posted Nov 21, 2016 at Watermark
#collage #digitalcollage #digitalart #quote Continue reading
Posted Oct 31, 2016 at Watermark
This page was featured on Gallery Standouts, with a wonderful review from Katherine Hansen: "Today’s first page is intriguing to me. No title, no journaling, but an awesome collage of autumnal colors and seemingly random elements. In sbpoet’s page, Mysteries, there is certainly an air of mystery about the items chosen and how they all go together – and yet, at the same time, they really have very little in common. Although a simple grid-style design, this appears to be much more complex with textures and overlays added that given an old-world feel to the page. The small paint splatters,... Continue reading
Posted Oct 25, 2016 at Watermark
#artjournal #digitalartjournaling #digitalart #the_lilypad #artdoll #PussiesGrabBack Continue reading
Posted Oct 22, 2016 at Watermark
Someone speaks of the war and I wonder which war? I see photographs of dead children. That distance between the viewer and the image. The shooter and the target. The bomber and the bomb. The ballot and the battlefield. #poem #snapshot_poem Continue reading
Posted Oct 21, 2016 at Watermark
#artjournal #digitalartjournaling #digitalart #the_lilypad Continue reading
Posted Oct 21, 2016 at Watermark
hunters' moon the dog pulls at the leash Oct. 14, 4:02 p.m. EDT — Full Hunters' Moon. With the leaves falling and the deer fattened, it is time to hunt. Since the fields have been reaped, hunters can ride over the stubble, and can more easily see the fox, along with other animals, which have come out to glean and can be caught for a thanksgiving banquet after the harvest. #poem #haiku #smallpoem Continue reading
Posted Oct 15, 2016 at Watermark
“Pussies. Women have them, men want them. And so we talk about them. A lot. Get over it.” Quote from a Facebook ‘friend’. “Women have all the power. They have all the pussy.” Quote from an offender in a sex offender treatment group. Despite my usual avoidance of political posts on Watermark and on Facebook, earlier this week I met a tipping point and posted this. It was, as my friend Sharon says, “blurt[ing] truth in the heat of the moment” without careful thought, editing, or laying necessary groundwork. So this is a second attempt. Groundwork: As a clinical social... Continue reading
Posted Oct 10, 2016 at Watermark
What's Coming Winter is coming, whether we are here to see it, or not. Seven different species of bees on the endangered species list. Elections are coming, if we are still here to vote. Then spring, summer, fall. Change is coming. It can happen here. We may complain of the heat, the cold, the fall into incivility, in which we, of course, play no part. It’s just words. What matters? These sparrows, fluttering in the ash tree. Frost on the last tomato. #poem #poem-a-day #collage #digitalcollage #digitalart Continue reading
Posted Oct 10, 2016 at Watermark