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13 Sep THE CARDINAL
Like a debutante in a red gown, I couldn’t ignore her, how she’d sit on a low branch, peck her hello each day on my window, then swoop over a neighboring cornfield, a streak of crimson against an azure Missouri sky. Packing in late autumn, I knew I‘d miss...
14 Aug Meadowlands
[caption id="attachment_659" align="alignleft" width="975"] This photo is by photographer James Wrona, which appeared in the article, Perpetual Meadowlands in the Summer 2012 issue of The Straddler.com [/caption]...
14 Aug Pandora’s Box
"Our task must be to free ourselves from our prison by widening our circles of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty."--Albert Einstein Lori Field is primarily self-taught, having less than a year's formal training in visual arts at...
29 Jul Three Pronouns
YOU told ME I would be your queen. WE would rule together, over monotonous mountain plains, blue cliché skies, and red rain yellow orange sunshine Cloistered in our world of solitude surrounded with nothing but each other Never knowing not caring what went on around us cause YOU and ME...
28 Jul Beauty In The Breakdown
Caught, between the roar of traffic and the hum of 787s that fly overhead, the Meadowlands sit like an oasis in a desert of tar. Made up of mostly salt water estuary’s and miles of gold and green vegetation, a Darwinian like society struggles for...
27 Jul HOODIE
Hoodie Fibers stitched darkness like tone of skin, his total blackout. This zipper tends to get stuck on rainy days like this. One sleeve holding stately can cellphone in the other. Pocket containing rain-bow, chase- Footsteps, heavy. Staunch breath of assumption. 'Fucking punk' calls it in, my string pulled so hard, almost rip bear trap tug of war back & forth, over what? Scrape fallen, yoked gotten. Hole shot through dark fibers. His taken not mistaken Identity. Justice lynched. Maybe on this day he should have worn white instead. Hoodie Fibers...
03 Apr HEARTWOOD
Hollow-hearted, hollow-handed, they went hungry up the mountains, branch by branch taking down the trees. the poor people and merchants of Haiti cut them down for coal, uprooting, deforesting, devastating the green for survival. Like the politicians uprooting the teaching of our ancestors Du sol soyons seuls maîtres! Their motto: Divide and conquer They turn...
03 Apr GREEN BOW, CLOUDS, A BITTERN
[quote]From scene to shining scene, tassel after tassel shiver and shift.[/quote] You can swim in the bough of this beginning-- (along the green bow without barnacles). The mix of meadow grasses sway like a smooth ocean swell. Cattails and cord grass, the uncontainable common reed surge together. The collective scallop of cumulous clouds are...