My Yard, My Body

My Yard, My Body

She is an instrument,

split tree in my yard,

her center cracked and crinkled branches

falling outward, toward the carpet of blades,

green sprouting from the between tawny brown.

That old tree is a massive flower blooming,

and looking at her, at the yard before me,

knowing its lushness-to-be,

I feel my cold bare toes on the ground,

and think how what is mine is not mine

until I water it.

Advertisements

Hiking Between Gunstock and Round Pond

Pepper and I went for a hike yesterday morning in the fresh powder. 6 inches was just enough to cover up all the brown patches that appeared in last week’s thaw. I’m not entirely sure where we ended up, but we made it to round Pond and then explored the red trail running down the hillside toward the cross country ski trails at Gunstock. After that, it was time to have fun with the Hermes 3000 typewriter sitting on my desk.

Home sounds like that Mason Jennings song

greenhouse
Photographs and lyrics submitted by Moriah Baltz

Raindrops on the kitchen floor and the curtain is blowing where the window’s open

Your arms wrapped around my neck and the kitchen sink is just overflowing

Spring flower by a singing stream and the secret to the thing is to let nothing divide us

One boat in an open sea it’s just you and me and our hearts to guide us

(See full issue of the Sound-Bites zine here).

house in the woods
Lyrics from ‘Raindrops on the Kitchen Floor’ by Mason Jennings

Your Daily Post: Sounds of Home

 

cover (1)
Materials: hand carved rubber stamp and ink, paper bags, the Southside News from October (delivered free to our back porch)

I’ll be posting the zine submissions for the most recent volume of Sound-Bites. Tune in and enjoy the variety of art submitted from near and far.

Email me at bethanymariahclarke@gmail.com for a physical copy. I am charging a $3 to cover color printing costs and postage.

Find the full digital version of the zine here.

The mountains echo with heartbeats

image2
ECHO OF AWE
sound so high
tone too steep
cry of cliff
echo of awe
image1
The poem above was submitted to the zine by Matt Soza of Laconia, New Hampshire. It’s simple and poignent words are accompanied by Matt Lanoue’s photographs of Gilford, New Hampshire. Lanoue wrote described his photographs to me in an email: “The first is a picture of Kimball Castle. The mountains here tell the story of New Hampshire history. One simply has to stop and listen. The second is a waterfall taken on the top of a mountain. It’s sound is the heartbeat of the mountain. A rhythm few people ever hear.”