Poetry

~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~

Tanya's poetry "Retelling": "Dreams of Pan" Tanya's poetry books: "Tarot Haiku" "Celestial Animals" "A Sampler Of Poems"

~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~

ˇ Artist's Statement ˇ In Case You Have Not Visited Before ˇ For Mary Burmeister ˇ Dusk at the Bookstore ˇ Dream, January 10, 2004 ˇ Alameda Lilacs ˇ Marina Village ˇ Mother ˇ Full Moon ˇ Gas Station, Orange County ˇ Wet Boots ˇ Scrap Book	ˇ At The Tea Garden ~and~ For You ˇ Divorce ˇ A Letter to the Dead ˇ The Singel ˇ Spring Rain ˇ for jg ˇ Idea ˇ Is It For You ˇ Autumn Diptych ˇ My Computer Doesn't Like Poetry ˇ Bill ~and~ Inland Mendocino
ˇ Portrait of Dorothy Van Ghent Listening to Glenn Gould's Bach

~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~

Is It For You

Is it for you the butterflies have waited?
Is it for you that plum blossoms swell on their branches?
Is it for you that naked ladies dance in the heat of August,
That yellow ginger perfumes the city night?
I first saw these sights from the open window
I sat there and smoked cigarettes.
Late at night Brian and I walked the dogs.
Neither of us wanted to do it. No one else would.
Brian lived across the street.
We sat on the back of a park bench
Our feet on the heavy planking seat.
Keeping an eye on the dogs, we talked about literature.
He was a Nam vet. I was a housewife.
He went to my old school, studied with my professors,
Wrote prose. I wrote poems, mostly.
We talked about it. The dogs ran in the wet grass.
Their fur got wet. Their ears flapped.
Their names were Oliver and Beowulf.
When they ran across the sidewalk
Their paw prints looked like morning glories.
Brian and I smelled the yellow ginger.
The naked ladies smelled like spray furniture polish.
I loved them springing out of the ground with no leaves.
Best of all I loved the angel's trumpet
Fragrances coming on the air to us from Carmelita Street.
There were snap dragons Ellen planted.
The blackwood acacias next to Ellen's house
Made an umbrella over us. Brian and I felt safe.
It was only on hot nights the flowers smelled strong.
Hot nights in September when there is no fog.
Brian and I got used to it.
He and his family gave me ranunculas for my birthday.
I cried when no one was looking.
I tried to write a poem about the flowers but I couldn't.
And now here you are. So many years have passed.
You keep me steady.
Is it for you the butterflies have waited?

"Is It For You" - Honorable Mention, Love Category, The Poets' Dinner, 2001

~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~

<Previous ˇ

~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~

ˇ Next>

~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~

Info: ˇ Home  ˇ Youtube  ˇ Exhibitions   ˇ Biography   ˇ Résumé   ˇ Copyright   ˇ What's New!

Writing: ˇ True Stories   ˇ Murals   ˇ Poetry   ˇ Middle English   ˇ Her Books   ˇ   ˇ

Highlights: ˇ Overview Highlights   ˇ "Ancient Figures, Timeless Dancers" Highlights  ˇ "Ancient Figures, Timeless Dancers" Animation  ˇ Walden Pond Highlights   ˇ Buddha Highlights: Pictures & Poems  ˇ Grounding Cat Buddha, Etc.  ˇ Tarot

Galleries: ˇ Bridges   ˇ Maine   ˇ SF & HPS   ˇ Early Work   ˇ Timepieces   ˇ Walden

~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~ ˇ ~