#poet-tree

moments to trade with olden

Theme in my halls around my library: we have TREEmendous readers.  Each tree in the main hall has book covers from specific genres: Nonfiction, Realistic Fiction, and Fantasy (Left to right).  The single tree on black is a “POET-tree” with school poems mixed in with the poetry book covers.  The single tree on blue is just leftovers from all genres and the window picture is just listing some genres- I got tired of trees but had to give my “office” some privacy. (It too MUCH longer to complete than I thought/hoped!)

Miss Alex

i've drenched it all in perspective-- everything in the curling curvature of the earth: this is artful architecture and there are angels in the angles, demons in the design and this is my house, constructed in conscious  conscience in keeping with my morbid sense of  humor haunting every hellishly hilarious hallway-- my mind is my mansion and my mansion is my world a fanatic fiction i've fashioned to filter fantasy through reality--because i can't determine which is which and which witch is witching her way through my heart this time? doesn't matter, names are just numbers here in nebulous narcissism: my flowing gray kingdom, where i reign with rain and yet i can't help but wonder why i never see anyone else  here: for all the clever cloisters and ruminating rooms, i've been the sole soul. it makes it all flickerr--err--the walls remain unclear. without someone else's eyes to prove that this place, in some way, is real, is valid, i can't tell. because no one else has navigated the maze of my  manic mansion, i don't know if it means anything. a lonely throne, i suppose, is no throne at all.

left to roam unchained.

We have beautiful fig trees in our main entrance area and for National Poetry Month they have been transformed into "poet-trees" which is just the most difficult thing to pronounce.

I'm glad that they don't have mouths to tell me to shut up 

as stillness is the move