by Ethel Mortenson Davis
We are going
to a movie
in Minneapolis.
He spoke.
Brokeback Mountain
is showing,
he grinned.
A willing mother,
surrounded by a sea
of young men,
A twinkling
In his eye —
a captured memory
in a wind of thoughts.
Captured Memory
Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, poems, Poetry
Here We Breath In Sky and Out Sky
Ethel has published yet another new book Here We Breathe In Sky and Out Sky. It should be available shortly on amazon.com and barnesandnoble.com.
You can purchase it today at http://www.lulu.com/shop/ethel-mortenson-davis/here-we-breathe-in-sky-and-out-sky/paperback/product-23134037.html. Reviews of the book are also appreciated. On the back cover the book is described in this way:
This is Ethel Mortenson Davis’s fourth book of poetry. The poems in this book are intense, filled with the magic light of New Mexico, imagistic in the same sense that H.D.’s and Ezra Pound’s early poetry was imagistic, spiritual, and transcendent. The visual nature of the poems relates to Davis’s skill as an artist trained at the University of Wisconsin in Madison. This nature also brings alive the high desert, mountain, and cliff country in which the poetry was written. The people that appear in the poems are multi-cultural, Navajo, Zuni Pueblo, and Anglos, that are living lives made complex by the long, sometimes difficult, history of New Mexico. There is a magic sense of New Mexican light in this book, and always a sense of here we breathe in sky and out sky.
I hope some of you will consider purchase a paperback copy.
Filed under Art, Ethel Mortenson Davis, poems, Poetry, Published Books
Beyond the Fire of Stars
by Thomas Davis
Words crawl, or dance, or hurl into the air,
And as their meanings symphony
A universe born from complexity
Derived from how we humans try to bear
The waves of minutes marching unaware
Toward an ocean that no one can see,
Life crawls and dances, hurls its vibrancy
Past any time of hope or bleak despair.
As thin as paper deep with crawling words,
We dance and hurl ourselves into our world
As life swirls time into the thoughts we are
And consciousness, like sparkling hummingbirds,
Discerns, then speaks of times and meanings curled
Into eternities beyond the fires of stars.
Filed under poems, Poetry, Thomas Davis
Looking Out at Lake Michigan at Cave Point
a photograph by Will Bingen, our grandson
Filed under Photography, Uncategorized
New Publications
Ethel and I have both had new publications. Ethel just appeared in the Blue Heron Review with her poem, “Laborer”. You can see the poem in this wonderful online publication at https://blueheronreview.com/blue-heron-review-issue-7-winter-2017.
I just had a sonnet published by Bramble Lit Magazine online. “An Elder’s Prayer” can be found here: http://www.wfop.org/an-elders-prayer. Ethel had one of her best poems in the last issue of Bramble, “Love Song” that was announced earlier in fourwindowspress.com. It is being published by the Wisconsin Fellowship of Poets and is a really exciting development.
“An Elder’s Prayer” is part of a sonnet cycle that I am working on about the water keepers at Standing Rock in North Dakota.
My new book, The Weirding, A Dragon Epic, is still in the process of being published by Bennison Books in Britain. I really hope some of our readers will consider reading books by other fine Bennison authors.
Both Ethel and I have also been notified that we will have poems in a new anthology, Indra’s Net that Bennison Books is putting together. Ethel will have three poems in the anthology. I will have two poems.
Filed under Uncategorized
Men Have Had Their Way With Her
by Ethel Mortenson Davis
It’s been too long
since we last talked.
I must tell you
that men have had
their way with her.
She is hurt and sick,
but keeps giving us gifts,
ignoring their torture
and disrespect.
Today she surprises us
with the white hares.
They hop over each other
making giggling sounds,
laughing at the prairie grasses.
She gives the spring rain
that coaxes green buds.
Soon we will plant
tomato and egg plants.
She gives us seeds to sprout,
not darkness, nor pain,
nor death.
Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, poems, Poetry
Nature’s Implacable Force
by Thomas Davis
In North Dakota’s winter frost drives deep
Into the ground, soils compacted tight
Until, in spring, the ground heaves, water seeps
Into the soils, and land begins to write
The story of another spring, the slow,
Implacable force nature heaves and cracks
Into the manmade things, the bravado
Of buildings, pipelines, streets, steel railroad tracks.
Inside an empty field an apple tree
Has grown into the crumbling of a farm.
It stands where once a lively family
Built walls to keep them safe and free from harm.
This pipeline will not ever fail, they say.
It won’t leak. Not a minute. Not a day.
Filed under poems, Poetry, Thomas Davis
Sketch
a pastel by Ethel Mortenson Davis
Filed under Art, Art by Ethel Mortenson Davis, Ethel Mortenson Davis
fourwindowspress 