Category Archives: Momentile

Making Visible (Momentile, debscott)

When shattering becomes
a thing of broken beauty,

(Momentile, debscott)

it is the very breaking
and brokenness
that reveals the heart,
the structure, the lovely lines,
the labyrinth of meaning
that once was whole and now
is visible.

(Momentile, debscott)

Nature wastes nothing.
Having unlearned this lesson,
people fumble with fragments
of the lost and leftover,
rags woven into
a kind of throne.

(Momentile, debscott)

Mariposa (Momentile, tinydancer)

mariposa, spread
your lashes, lips, your fine tongue
embrace the long line
hollowed with heat, memories,
opening to erasure

Momentile by tinydancer, caption by pfanderson

Tinydancer: Mariposa: http://momentile.com/captions/26579

Dr. Omed’s Tent Show Revival: Momentile Monday – Mariposa: http://doctoromed.wordpress.com/2009/09/28/momentile-monday/

“The gift giver, that old gnome” (Momentile, Coffeebee)

The gift giver, that old gnome,
Whose eyes hold the darkness of skies
And reflect back our own …

Santa's Eye

Original here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/coffee_bee/3955120652/

Momentile here: http://momentile.com/coffeebee/09-26-2009

Many thanks to Coffeebee for permission to use her image in this post!

Fire Goddess (Momentile, Tinydancer)

Dr. Omed is an inspired paper collage artist who shares his work in Momentile. Momentile has become one of my favorite social media spaces.

Momentile: http://momentile.com/

This isn’t the space where I want to talk at length about why Momentile is interesting, so to keep it short, Momentile is basically a spinoff of the increasingly popular projects in various social media to post something every day for a month or a year. With Momentile, not more than once a day would be more accurate.

There have been a number of posts on this blog which originated as captions in Momentile on someone else’s photo, image, or work of art. Of those other artists, the one who I find most inspirational is Dr. Omed. I have captioned a number of his paper collages, and wish I had time to caption them ALL. This has been an amazingly productive and serendipitous “collaboration”.

In Momentile itself, you really can’t hold a conversation with the other artists – it requires oblique strategies to communicate. Luckily, Dr. Omed and I know each other in other social media spaces, which means he can post my captions on his blog and I can post his images on mine and both of us can ask permission and link back to each other’s work. Happy Days!

“P. F. Anderson has written vatic poem-captions for several of my ’tiles, and you may soon [see] more ’tiles and more of her lovely captions on the Tent Show (unless she says not).”
Today is 12.19.16.12.15 2 Men 13 Ch’en. Dr. Omed’s Tent Show Revival. http://doctoromed.wordpress.com/2009/09/23/scissor-dance-fire-goddess/

For the record, I am delighted! Especially if Dr. Omed will grant permission for me to share the caption / Momentile combinations here and in my Flickr stream as well, of course linking back to his original Momentile and his blogpost. Here is the first example of what I envision. I hope it is OK with him.

Momentile Caption: TinyDancer - Fire Goddess

The face of the fire goddess
swells with her aching,
dozens of her nipples leak
blood and cluster together.
Around her spin seconds
become hours and hours
become seconds,
as the air consumed
abandons both breath
and breathing.

Conversation Going Nowhere

A Twitter collaboration between @neilfinn and @pfanderson

—–
Day One

You can say the magic words
I got my sensors on

words are magic, magic is words
(siren, serene, sliver, sword)
opening hearts, closing minds
(eggshell, box, & lemon rinds)

She said nobody move
Or I’ll bring the house down

Rustling in the dark,
cracks, pops? Nothing but old house
sagging down to earth.

My wish is for you
And end to your sorrow

Swathed in cool robes,
she bows her goodbyes,
the warmth of embrace
just in her eyes.

So paint a circle in the sky
Out of breath receive the arms of love

Beneath us, shadows
limned by an airborne bubble
blue around our eyes

When you shake off the shadows of night
And your eyes are so clear and so bright
You make fools of the liars and creeps

—–
Day Two

they seem bright, honest-
the firefly constellations
dark’s gentle flowing
seducing with their silence
misleading the other

Today I am still disconnected
To the face that I saw in the clouds
And the closest I get to contentment
Is when all of the barriers come down

Look not at bright dots
embedded in mist.
The space between things
shapes the connection.

We’re standing in a deep dark hole
Beneath the sky as black as coal
It’s just a fear of losing control

Eyes closed, skin alive –
feel air move, waves shift, the rest?
moment of balance

Cuckoos call, pendulum swings
I thought you knew everything
Lift my hands make the cross

Arms raised, our hands cross
(maypole ribbons when dance is
done). Summer comes in.

No one is wise
Until they see how it lies

—–
Day Three

Fingers warm and stick
with sand trickling to the beach.
Lie down in the light …

I lit the match
I lit the match
I saw another monster turn to ash
Felt the burden lifting from my back

—–
Day Four

the stone is a stone.
it doesn’t become lighter,
we become stronger

Then I wake up in your room
To share one piece of your life

the dreamwalker shifts,
sits in the rocking chair, rocks
changing face and form

Remember my loose tongue
Forget what I just said
I’d crawl over broken glass
If we could start again

—–
Day Five

Broken bits of glass
tumbled in salt and sand
grow soft, full of light.

Here’s someone now who’s got the muscle
His steady hand could move a mountain
Expert in bed but come on now
There must be something missing

Sun haze, glory days –
teen boys swap and top stories.
Where is the mirror?

I have all I want is that simple enough
there’s a whole lot more I’m thinking of

Light shivers and sings;
crystals chime of needs, desires.
Echoes ripple, fade.

Tough outer shell
But so you can tell
She’s soft underneath
Where you sink your teeth

—–
Day Six

Marbles, hopscotch, jacks –
we’re not playing the same game.
Ah, for a good book.

I saw you there by the side of the road
You wore long faces and long overcoats in the rain
Waiting for buses to carry you home

Soft staccato rain
embroiders slumber’s edges
with midnight’s needles

I’ll be brave, put all my fears away
I’m hoping that I get the chance to meet her

—–
Day Seven

Meeting, greeting,
Hey! It’s sleeting!
Duck & hover,
Run for cover.
Save handshakes for another day
when beating rain has gone away.

There’s a small boat made of china
Going nowhere on the mantlepiece

On my mantelpiece,
a filly nuzzles her colt,
mama bear breastfeeds,
St. Nicholas cuddles Christ,
Grandpa Morris holds his Ruth.

Sing it anyone got my eyes got my face
Sing it everyone got my nose got my blood

Walking down the street,
seven matching noses,
like Russian nesting dolls,
in sizes big to small

Go kindly with him
To his blind apparition
Whose face creases up with age gone grey
You’ll be back here one day

—–
Last Day

(Silence)

Tales from my head
I can’t buy the book
No one’s listening
But I guess you could
Try whistling this

Round

show me the sacred —
opening and arising,
the breath, wet, bone, stone.

Inspired by this momentile from tinydancer

Mariposa

Momentile by tinydancer, caption by pfanderson

mariposa, spread
your lashes, lips, your fine tongue
embrace the long line

hollowed with heat, memories,
opening to erasure

* * *

Inspired by this momentile