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Day At The Museum Of Fine Arts Boston

I enjoy going to the MFA Boston not just for the obvious reason - the art, but the time-traveling. I feel like I'm on my way to somewhere, sometime exciting in the TARDIS and walking through its unending rooms filled with keepsakes of the Doctor's visits to his second home. 

Here are a few treasures I discovered this time around ~

Gallery 279 in Art of Asia, Oceania, and Africa: the Buddhist Temple room. Okay, I love "discovering" this one every time I pass through. I always plan to arrive there after I've been walking around a bit. I love the low, muted flame colored light, the earthy shadings of the myriad of woods, and the relaxed feeling I get when I'm there. 

Gallery 209 in Art of the Ancient World: the Offering Chapel of Kayemnofret and the Offering Chapel of Sekhemankhptah. I've seen documentaries on the tombs and pyramids of Egypt and noticed how claustrophobic most of the rooms appear but I've never felt it until now. The ceilings in the Chapels are high but the width isn't much more than my arm span and the length not more than my Corolla. I couldn't help but think of the builders why may have died during construction and those who may have been entombed with their deceased ruler so as to serve them in the afterlife. 

On a lighter note, literally, was the Alchemy exhibit by Choi Jeong-Hwa in the Rotunda on Level 2. The artist took jewel-toned plastic ware (bowls, cups, etc) scavenged from street vendors and created gem-like garlands. One man's garbage is another man's treasure.

My favorite find of this trip was one that you won't be able to see. You might find one like it, and you could find it anywhere, not just where I did, but it won't be the same.

Gallery 250 in Art of Europe: what I call "Little da Vinci". A child, about 8 years old, sitting on the floor in the center of the gallery, spiral pad open before them, green leaded pencil in hand, beginning a sketch of a collection of silverware displayed on the wall.

And so art begins...

and so it continues....

Gallery 279 in Art of Asia, Oceania, and Africa:
the Buddhist Temple room





Gallery 209 in Art of the Ancient World:
the Offering Chapel of Kayemnofret




Gallery 209 in Art of the Ancient World:
the Offering Chapel of Sekhemankhptah




Rotunda, Level 2:
Alchemy


Gallery 250 in Art of Europe (from MFA website)


Arguing Online


Arguing Online

Walking the whisper
trolling the talk
dimming the difference
between twitter
and twat

July 18, 2016

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NaPoWriMo2016 ~ National Poetry Writing Month ~ The End

National Poetry Writing Month ~ 

NaPoWriMo2016 ~

(Nah-Poe-Rye-Moe)

30 Poems In 30 Days ~

As we created the gods they must be crazy~

Made it through the 30 rough, first draft, binge-slammed works. Thank you for taking the journey with me!





NaPoWriMo #30 ~ VOICE


Voice

High-pitched tones and clicks
mimics of heartbeat and pulse

Bad copies
echoes of what is heard

Tying together the words
creating necklaces of air
to express myself

Speaking in ink
to be heard far away and forever

Learning to soar
adding melodic gems to my necklaces
making my notes harmonic

Again
I've picked up
my dead tree tattoo gun
polishing the tarnish away
tightening the links
checking the clasps
hoping to fill my paper treasure chest
with things of value

April 30, 2016


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NaPoWriMo #29 ~ MIGRAINE MORNING


Migraine Morning

I woke with the throbbing behind my eyes
like dirty lights in my rearview mirror
and I knew my plan for the day
was about to be revoked
my license to enjoy light suspended
my freedom arrested
as I'm thrown into a personal drunk tank
handcuffed to a porcelain altar

April 29, 2016


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NaPoWriMo #28 ~ BAD HABIT


Bad Habit

You're dark and sour
lemon moonlight
that is of no aid

A million cigarette tips
glowing in the black
poison stars in the night

I'll snuff you
stub you flat
out of my life

April 28, 2016


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NaPoWriMo #27 ~ THE SCOPE OF WORDS


The Scope Of Words

I've lost the fire
dropped the desire
there's only an echo
barely making it
to my delta
no where near
my venus

From alpha
to omega
written by a beta

April 27, 2016


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NaPoWriMo2016 #26 ~ DEFINITION


Definition

Artist
[ahr-tist]
verb
1. to mix, to stir many elements, to create truth in a dark cave using your soul as a torch.

April 26, 2016


Prompt from Creating Space For Poetry, Making Room For Humanity | Kevin Kantor | TEDxClaremontColleges (14:15 through 15:30).

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NaPoWriMo2016 #25 ~ THE MONSTER GETS THE BOY


The Monster Gets The Boy

Created
abandoned
lost
lonely
violent
naive
wanting

Male
always male

falling for the girl
who runs in fear

Is it not feminine
to be vicious
to be evil
to be ugly
yet inspire empathy

Is it not masculine
to see beyond the physical
to be sympathetic
and yet be afraid

Human is too myopic
Monster never gets love

April 25, 2016


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NaPoWriMo2016 #24 ~ OVERGROWN


Overgrown

Flowers in the attic
fungus in the basement
succulents in the carpet
creeping vines across the doors
venus fly traps along the windows
belladonna by the bedside
nightshade on the dinner table
Won't you stay
Won't you stay
just for a spell

April 24, 2016


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NaPoWriMo2016 #23 ~ LIBRARY


Library

The smell
that's the first thing
it's the aroma of eternity
and every love and hate within

The visual
every size
the thick and thin of every era
lined up and cross-referenced

The texture
traveling through the ages
by the stroking of different makes

The lives
of all that were, are, and imagined
flipping through my fingers

and I bring it all home
to visit with me
and return it
to visit with you

We time-travel together
companions that will never meet

April 23, 2016


Image: The Kansas City Public Libraryused without permission, with no credit taken, no profit made, and no offense intended.

NaPoWriMo2016 #22 ~ SECARE (CUT)


Secare (cut)

At first it was thought
he was a kind of farmer
reaping what was sown
scythe both tool
and walking stick

Then he became
a sort of sailor
ferrying his cargo
for two coins
barge both tool
and transport

And he morphed
into a Fallen
a soft hand on a shoulder
a whisper in an ear
off he'd fly with you

He's fear
He's mercy
He's vicious
He's gentle
He's cruel
He's...
not personal

April 22, 2016


Image of unknown origin, used without permission, with no credit taken, no profit made, and no offense intended. Update 4/24/16 from a friend: "The image is from a Warhammer 40k. It's a sickle wielded by Dark Eldar Mandrakes - beings that have spent so much time in shadow that it has become physically a part of them."

Secare, Latin: to cut, root of Sickle.

NaPoWriMo2016 #21 ~ HIS NAME WAS PRINCE


His Name Was Prince

I heard of him
when I was too young
to ride with Trojans
baby, he was much too fast
He was scandalous
but it was Saturday night
guess that makes it all right
so I danced

I believed him when he sang
and kept dancing
through purple rain
and thrilled when he told the world
sharing kisses and cream
under a blue light
on an continental
up to
and past
where I always gett off

Now
his elevator has stopped
the world goes crazy
but he'll still keep us dancing


April 21, 2016


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NaPoWriMo2016 #20 ~ THE ENEMY


The Enemy

I don't have the anger for this
it's not mixed in the make-up of me

I don't hate with my skin
"blow me" if you don't like the rejected crayon color
"couple hours dead" of my flesh

My genitalia doesn't make sibling decisions
you're not my sister because we share
the same crotchpot cooking

No one cares who I fuck
including the ones I fuck

and I couldn't care less
what happened to my ancestors
whatever else they may be
they're dead

What I do have inside me
mixed in the make-up of me
is justice

Did someone expect you
to get out of their way
because they didn't like your melatonin

Did someone expect you to think
in a certain way
because of your sex

Who told you 
who you had to fuck
because of the birth package
in your pants

Who expected you
to not expect more
because "you have it so much better
than your ancestors"

We're here
We're alive
We're privileged
We're denied

It's not
us against them
it's
us against it

Oh, yes, I have the anger for this

April 20, 2016


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NaPoWriMo2016 #19 ~ COUNTDOWN


Countdown

Tick Tock
Tick Tock
it gets louder every year
time clicking in my joints

Tock Tick
Tock Tick
watching my memories slip down
the whirlpool of what time I have left

Tick
Tick
hit in the face with the future's arrival
its hands slide over my cheeks
and out of my mind

Tock
Tock
running fast to catch up
taking it slow to enjoy
it's all relative

Alarm
no snooze
a stopped clock
is never right again

April 19, 2016


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NaPoWriMo2016 #18 ~ SHE


She

She never stopped
hasn't stopped
she'll run till her soul collapses
jelly like her liver

She swung her hand
like a broken ceiling fan
the light blinking on and off
with every spin

She'll shoot the words out
of her painted red mouth
a bloody, crampy vagina
crusting and scratchy
like unchanged underwear

She grew middle-aged
while I grew up
now she grows old
and I fall over the hill

She left
I ran
but not far enough
so I'll use the umbilical cord
to my advantage
she'll fall into the noose
she meant for me

She's stopped

April 18, 2016


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NaPoWriMo2016 #17 ~ Emotophobic Louse


Emotophobic Louse

I'll pull blood from my tongue
to hold back the air
before it becomes the knife
you'll turn on me
to cut my throat
and stab my heart

April 17, 2016


Image: Cymothoa exigua, a tongue-eating parasite, used without permission, with no credit taken, no profit made, and no offense intended.

Emotophobia: the fear of strong negative emotions.

NaPoWriMo2016 #16 ~ AFFIRMATION


Affirmation

I'll take those walks
right into the fields
of community
There's no sanctuary
I can't carry with me
Makes more than I can absorb
so I'll take the cheap seats
and color them gold
Spread myself like cold cream cheese
on a warm fresh bagel
I'll melt into every cranny
and be deliciously devoured
I'm going to pull yes from the sun
and shine it on everything

April 16, 2016


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NaPoWriMo2016 #15 ~ JUST A FEW QUESTIONS


Just A Few Questions

Did I say
no?
Did I say
stop?
Did I say
help?
Did I say
anything?
I only remember...
screaming...
Did they ask
yes?
Did they ask
please?
Did they ask
now?
Did they ask
anything?
I only remember...
grunting...

April 15, 2016


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NaPoWriMo2016 #14 ~ HOME


Home

The rubble of woulda
the concrete of coulda
the steel of shoulda
bound together with
fear
stupidity
laziness
and painted with
mighta been

April 14, 2016


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NaPoWriMo2016 #13 ~ SEARCHING FOR POETRY


Searching For Poetry

Out of cubeville early
in the wrong shoes for a jaunt
and I proceed to get
stunningly
stupidly
utterly lost
in the garden of Beantown

Underground is easy
the colors lead the way
and the view
is beyond rainbow
handsome in scrubs
Friday night law review file
tux & tales with full pedobear head
and an electric guitar
"Tonight's the Night"
another handsome in scrubs
(is there a convention?)

Above ground at night
directions
wrong directions
missing is easy in the dark
walkers "don't know"
what street they're walking
(Massholes)

"I'm late! I'm late!"
said this limping rabbit
even if I knew the way
the path is too far

Taking a chance on Orange
to get home
back below ground
baggy pants
skinny jeans
red cowboy boots
and a sad shade of an actor

(I had forgotten the beauty of younger men)

Wrapped in the warmth of home
I discover the City of Lights
has been bombed
(WTF?! Did someone declare war on art & pastry?!)

and the poetry
remained unfound
and silent

but not for long

April 13, 2016


Image: "Endowing Vegetables With Too Much Meaning" by Kevin Kantor: image used without permission, with no credit taken, no profit made, and no offense intended.

Based on my trying to get to a poetry slam Kevin Kantor was performing at in Boston, MA, on Friday 13, 2015 (Paris attack).