I hear the snow this winter morn, a silent breath before my dawn. Her flakes embroidered to adorn, I hear the snow this winter morn. Earth dons her apron newly born while spring awaits and plays the pawn. I hear the snow this winter morn a silent breath before my dawn.
…..
I like the challenge NaPorWriMo gives me. It makes me write in ways I never do. It breaks me out of my comfort zone and I kick my fear of failure aside.
Today is a rhymed and metered challenge. My words are always stifled and feel trite. But I give it a go. It always makes me a better writer.
This poem is a bit better than most. I try to get the thoughts to carry over to the following line, but I’m still hyper focused on rhyme and meter. But I see progress. Yay!
Here is the prompt: “And now here’s another prompt drawn from our archives – and, as usual, optional! Today, let’s try writing triolets. A triolet is an eight-line poem. All the lines are in iambic tetramenter (for a total of eight syllables per line), and the first, fourth, and seventh lines are identical, as are the second and final lines. This means that the poem begins and ends with the same couplet. Beyond this, there is a tight rhyme scheme (helped along by the repetition of lines) — ABaAabAB.”
Despair is nothing without disarray it flies with indifference and stammers in cacophony and ceases – not at all
And bitter – out of the Still – undetected And indolent isn’t drought It won’t soothe the brute That released the hostile And chilled them all
I never heard it in the warm But in the familiar Storm And – always within my soul, It demanded all of me
. . . .
Today’s prompt in NaNoWriMo was a great challenge. I met it with simplicity not changing too much and not worrying about the meter. Altogether too depressing is the outcome. But it was a good learning experience.
Here is the prompt as given: “Last but not least, here’s our prompt for the day (optional, as always). Find a shortish poem that you like, and rewrite each line, replacing each word (or as many words as you can) with words that mean the opposite. For example, you might turn “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?” to “I won’t contrast you with a winter’s night.” Your first draft of this kind of “opposite” poem will likely need a little polishing, but this is a fun way to respond to a poem you like, while also learning how that poem’s rhetorical strategies really work. (It’s sort of like taking a radio apart and putting it back together, but for poetry).”
A tiny pokey bit flavoring a primordial soup. A yellow eye imprisoned in my soul. Quivering poison waiting for the downbeat. Memory preserved by the smallest of crystalline grains protecting its collection. The gasp of the artillery of death announcing its beginning. A yearning deeply hidden within an uncracked heart. Just an unassuming traveler hitching a ride.
Clove. Cyclops. Mercurial. Salt. Thunder. Acorn. Cowbird. I am.
I am happy to see my two pieces on Facebook that I shared at my first meeting with the Aurora Artists Guild this month.
I invite you to go to the Facebook page – Aurora Artists Guild – and take a look around and do some likes and comments about these two pieces, if you are so inclined. As a new artist stepping out to share my work, I would appreciate your support.
I am also excited that I will be entering the Gateway to the Rockies Art Show which happens in November and December at the Community College of Aurora in Colorado.
Click to see more of my art at Squarespace. All artwork is for sale.
He said begin each day proclaiming, “Today is going to be a great day.” My knee protested. We walked to the open space, our refuge, the Bean and I. Labored. He was patient. He knows. They cleared away bushes, trees. “For the sake of mitigation.” To keep us safe from fire. Fire that burns from indifference, not from within that quickens marrow. I wonder about Fox who follows us weaving within the woods rose and willow. Raven registers displeasure, a loss of camouflage against Hawk. “I’m sorry,” my offering against sadness. Maybe tomorrow.
I don’t drink much anymore. Even the smallest amount of wine gives me a tremendous headache the following day. No beer. either. But the hard stuff seems to be fine in small amounts. So I focus on only the best in small amounts.
A bit ago I saw a friend on facebook mention to another friend that mezcal would be a good choice. I’ve had some very good tequila margaritas, but never mezcal as such. It seems tequila is a type of mezcal – a distilled liquor made from agave.
We took our long weekend trip to Santa Fe over Thanksgiving, one of our favorite places to be. Especially our Air B&B which is located about twenty minutes outside of Santa Fe on the way to Madrid. It is in a small grouping of a few houses on a dirt road in the middle of the arroyos and pinons and with views of sunrise and sunset not to be matched.Blessings to have found this place several years ago. I’ll write more about this magical place later.
Our regular upscale restaurant visit is to Sazon. In my opinion the best of the best. Another blessing to have found it. It was there I remembered my friend’s conversation about mezcal and my promise to myself to try new things. And so it was.
La Nueva created by Chef Olea would be my drink. My first try of a smoky wondrous mezcal. The ingredients: Madre Espandin Mezcal, Agave, Angostura Bitters, Lemon Twist. I love gin martinis for their “herbyness.” Oh, the blessing of the Earth’s goodness.
This would not be everyone’s cup of tea, er, spirit. But it is mine. Very smoky. Bitter. Herbs. Touch of sweetness, but just a very little bit. When I make this, I will add a bit more agave.
The color was lovely, like a golden glass Christmas ornament glistening on the tree. Ice cubes and the lemon decorating with just enough brightness for the season. There is a musty flavor, a deep richness that goes to the heart of any gardener. The lingering on the tongue and then the herbs rising up into the roof of the mouth to the nose. And oh, my, such a lovely long lasting sip.
As I said, I’m not a big drinker anymore so this lasted me through almost the entire meal. It was the perfect accompaniment to the sweet mole duck breast enchiladas.Trying new foods and drink – only the best – is a celebration of art and love and passion and a true blessing for me. And finding Sazon and Chef Olea is another.
Below is a link to a video about the James Beard semifinalist and honoree of Michelle Obama’s Faces of Diversity Award for working with children. And he is dedicated to intimate seating and slow dining with only two seating times per night – 5:00 and 7:30. Lovely.
I never noticed this prayer at the entrance to Sazon before and didn’t see it until we were leaving that evening. No wonder I am so drawn to this place.
Dear God, I humbly request Create a sacred space of joy around this kitchen Help me feel the importance of what I do Bless me as I prepare this meal Bless the ingredients I use May this meal be a reflection and embodiment of your love And may it bless the body, Mind, and spirit who partake of it.
One of the top reasons we go to Santa Fe is for the food.
Everyone has their favorite “hole on the wall” and/or fancy-ancy place. Restaurants are everywhere. And not just those serving New Mexican cuisine.
We have our favorite quick stop. The Plaza Cafe Southside. Easy to get to. We can pick something up on our way out of the city on our way to our Air B&B and eat in the comfort of the surrounding arroyos and ravens and piñons. This restaurant also caters to vegans. And they have a warning on their menu that they are not responsible for your reaction to the heat of the chilis. So choose wisely, my friend. Remember that in Santa Fe, the green chili is not for the faint of heart. Seriously.
Then there is Jambo. African-Caribbean Fusion. Oh, my. And, yet again, know your heat level. The sweet potato lentil stew with coconut rice was incredible. Here, too, vegans are happily and deliciously accommodated. I came home with the curry spices for that soup, plus black bean curry, and some sumac. Oh, the lemony lusciousness of sumac. I should have bought their cookbook.
Inspired by the chili beef stew we had on a whim in Taos and the Plaza Cafe’s flat enchiladas, we picked up some ground chili at the farmers market from the sweetest abuela ever. We are excited to use these and play around. One hot hot – she said it depends on your ability to withstand heat as to whether or not you will like it. And a bag of medium. We’ll let you know. We’re going to use a recipe from Rancho Gordo. Then there is Sazon. Be still my heart. A lovely intimate restaurant where you are surrounded by huge paintings – many of them of Frida. You’re treated like royalty, even if you are in jeans.
We haven’t really eaten at very many high end restaurants in Santa Fe, except for Sazon. Chef Olea is genius. Solidly New Mexican, but with a contemporary update.
I only used my camera for the flashlight to read the menu. Yes, I’m at that age. 🙄 So I don’t have any photos.
Think about this – four exquisite mole sauces as an amuse bouche – starting with the sweetest deep chocolate to a sweet apricot to a green chili to the smokey red chili with three mini flour tortillas to scoop up all that deliciousness while you sip your cocktail and decide on what will grace your plate. I’ll be writing a post about the cocktail. My introduction to mezcal. Oh. My.
Sopa de Amour…chef Olea’s gift of love. A silky creamy poblano chili soup with a touch of sweetness, topped with crab meat, topped with a cream foam (a thick one and, I know, I’m not a fan of foam but this one…oh, this one) and then brushing of cinnamon. The server tells you not to mix it up but spoon a bit of everything in each bite. I wanted to lick the bowl, but the young French couple next to us were the mentors that kept me in line.
My entree. Not only was it delicious, but the plating itself was gorgeous mahogany and bright green with touch of white – it did look like Christmas. Raising the humble enchilada to this level takes a deft hand that understands flavors and textures. Corn tortillas run quickly through hot oil, layered with sweet potato cream, topped with luscious duck breast perfectly cooked and then topped with the deepest, richest, sweetest of Chef Olea’s moles. Two thin rings of fresh white sweet onion on top and sides of quick pickled spiraled baby beets and a jasmine rice with baby, baby cilantro. If you don’t like cilantro, you just might like the baby ones. It was incredible.
Dulce Sinfonia for dessert. A “savory” dessert that was not savory but extremely rich. A creamy lovely pale green avocado ice cream topped with a white ginger sauce. It sat in a sweet deep pink beet sauce with jalapeños and roasted piñons. Christmas.
In New Mexico when you order your chili Christmas, you get both red and green chili side by side on your burrito. At Sazon Christmas has an entirely different appearance.
Well, off to make dinner. Bubble and squeak out of the last of the leftovers. Turkey, mashed potatoes, dressing, green beans with an egg and some gravy coated in panko bread crumbs and baked – not fried in oil as the British do.
It may not be Santa Fe cuisine, but a person cannot live by chili alone…..
A pink umbrella floats across water upside down right side up reflection a masked woman her partner saunter lotus floats edges ripple into shapes unknown just reflections Emma’s shoes drop bag opens an escape of used tissue tumbles with breeze no longer confined finally free Emma lowers bottom placed on cemented edge toes submerge into cold no excuse from early morning rain door opens through threshold a pink umbrella upside down floats a skiff holding promises forgotten floats away Emma wiggles her toes through the door a threshold a marigold sea of petals remembers golden sun and sweet scent of bloom a pink umbrella carries away excuses pain rememberings upside down filling too full Emma watches sinks below waterline under lotus pad into murky substance a place to break down become that which feeds new growth from murky substance repaired Emma’s toes curl stretch sprout vines reaches into murk feeds from what she once knew now reconstructs releases lets go gives in grows new bud precious bloom turns to sun’s face warmth color bright graceful
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