Goodbye 2020! Onward and upward! Let's stay masked and get vaccinated!
© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved.
nothing to see here folks
...move along
Goodbye 2020! Onward and upward! Let's stay masked and get vaccinated!
© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved.
© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved.
Text:
winter solstice
welcoming a sign
that sweet color
will end this darkness
...never mind that
it's forced
© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved.
Text:
Christmas eve
highly detailed
instructions in a font
too small to read
a sudden need to
spike Santa's milk
© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved.
Text:
December nor'easter
rain snow sleet
from all directions
--simultaneously
as if the wind
can't make up its mind
© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved.
Text:
November light
Last month I participated in a Spark postcard exchange. Usually I write a short poem, digitally illustrate it, and print off a 4x6" copy to send as my postcard. I impose upon myself a theme that I use to get me going. In October my head was completely taken up by the presidential election, so, I didn't write poems. Instead, I borrowed the words of another poet, Carl Sandburg, to illustrate using photos and illustrations in the public domain. Sandburg's Good Morning, America (1928) collection contained a numbered list of 38 definitions of poetry. Here are three of the postcards that I created using Sandburg's definitions #2, 14, and 21:
© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved.
Text:
one year after moving
one more box emptied
more than one to go
Just a random small poem for today.
© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved.
Text:
Time of Drought
Crow does
not doubt
one rain
drop will
mean two
rain drops,
will mean
three,
then four.
Nor does
he doubt
death will
find him
if that one
rain drop
does not
fall
at all.
© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved.
Text:
waiting for fall to end
raking and bagging
raking and bagging
Text:
those who pick
at her scabs hope
to topple her
voters may provide
the corrective
to keep her standing
© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved.
Text:
fall 2020
stepping on the cracks
to break the back
of he who is working
to make the fissures
too wide to cross
© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved.
Text:
lab tests
I eye the vials as they fill
four...seven...ten...
© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved.
Text:
tomato bumper crop
mid-October and
the pandemic continues
despite all else
we can depend on
a salad
© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved.
Text:
autumn takes hold
an air of desperation
to all activities
the new year will
reveal whose attempts
at survival prevail
© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved.
Text:
making plans
spring and summer
spent at home
in November we'll
walk through the leaves
to vote
Here's a haiga from January 20, 2017 that I'm reprising today. Now, nearly four years later, we know that what we once thought was a mask, is a full-out evil visage. Sadly, in the time of a pandemic, we now wish he would wear a real Covid mask.
© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved.
Text:
Mephisto
the crowd still expects
he'll remove his mask
In recognition of the loss of Ruth Bader Ginsberg--civil rights advocate extraordinaire.
© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved.
Text:
Ruth
The woman wore
crocheted net gloves--
clearly, an anti-fashion
fashion tease.
Her gloves were a
tribute to the skill of
generations of women
who created beauty
and complexity
within a net of society.
She knew full well
that one day, the net
would be turned
inside out to release
the little fishes and
snag the leviathan.
© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved.
Text:
Text:
holes in the sidewalk
where a
mailbox always stood
August 2020
Text:
$131,700
A little background reading.
© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved.
Text:
pandemic lock-down
--running out of subjects
to turn into verse