Tag Archives: poetry

Fat Drop Song

Posted on February 19, 2024 by jillbpearlman

February gives us thinking waterstrees of dessicated lacereeds hanging on memories of yellowness The pause, the somnolence, the hard work between the desert and ecstasy Then shoots of crocus grow fresh nervesin last night’s snow banks.And fat drops of melting … Continue reading →

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , | Comments Off on Fat Drop Song

Secret Face – Upon Observing Barbara Kruger’s Installation

Posted on January 28, 2024 by jillbpearlman

A parking lot with rain:How jagged the concreteHow silken its puddles Its poured-out watery silhouettesMagic concentric circlesFast like a dazzling tap dancerWhose moves outpace the eyeOr a spinning vinyl in black light How the mind anticipates what it seesHow a camera … Continue reading →

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Comments Off on Secret Face – Upon Observing Barbara Kruger’s Installation

Winter’s Other

Posted on January 7, 2024 by jillbpearlman

Lushly, thicklya polar bear hibernatesunder our infinite skies,  in our midst:bristling white visiting behemoth. From my tiny pane,I see its heavylugubrious breathing see its lungs, and firrise and fall in branch and mindand rise again.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , | Comments Off on Winter’s Other

Memo for the Next Year

Posted on December 31, 2023 by jillbpearlman

When I said I believed in lightness, I wasn’t kidding.  Over and over, I return –not to escapism or fantasy or ostrich necks–but to dissolving solidity, breaking up the world’s fixity.   My holidays – as if a wild angel came reeling from the … Continue reading →

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , | Comments Off on Memo for the Next Year

A Spectacle and Nothing Strange

Posted on December 4, 2023 by jillbpearlman

Rain in Paris, great whorls of it spinning, falling as knotted string, strung pearls, bird’s nests,gray hair, wire barbed or not, cat gut, old paint brushes,tumbleweeds.  Clean your hairbrush, bad curtainsin strips, cloud shreds, albumen, cauldrons of bouillon, cassette ribbons, phlegm and … Continue reading →

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , | Comments Off on A Spectacle and Nothing Strange

To Spill; a Sequin Jacket; Public Opinion

Posted on November 19, 2023 by jillbpearlman

His sequin jacket, so tight last night,scatters itself across the water. Parts always made up his whole,the reveler never believed in Absolutes;   nor did trees who say enough to a green monolith,and spangle into scarlet, rust, cranberry. Opinion these days, … Continue reading →

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Comments Off on To Spill; a Sequin Jacket; Public Opinion

Code RED

Posted on November 13, 2023 by jillbpearlman

RED.  Indelible.  Dipped in. Day-glo, night-glow leaf show. The color arborindifferent to our words –  wobbly, spanning our confusion. Words spin on the turntable of language. The mixed-use heart.All warmth and passion or is it all red fury? Red Alert – a love or war  … Continue reading →

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , | Comments Off on Code RED

The Annals of Avoidance

Posted on October 30, 2023 by jillbpearlman

Days and days and days.  In a week.  So many ways to distract self.  The annals of avoidance would fill a book of the world.  What else could lure me to my closet and sort out my sock and tights, search for runs, holes, … Continue reading →

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , | Comments Off on The Annals of Avoidance

All the Days of Awe

Posted on September 24, 2023 by jillbpearlman

The Days of Awe open on Rosh Hashanah and close on Yom Kippur. When my birthday falls on Rosh Hashanah, it gets lost in the birthday of the world; when it falls on Yom Kippur, celebrations turn sober and thin. … Continue reading →

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , | Comments Off on All the Days of Awe

Wording in the Rain

Posted on September 11, 2023 by jillbpearlman

Finally it rains. Slapping and paddling the thick leaves; gliding down (d)rain pipes to be spit out onto recumbent weeds, filling puddles that I see mixed with the mesh of my screen window.  Puddles like a running woman, arms outstretched, hair … Continue reading →

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , | Comments Off on Wording in the Rain