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New Poetry by Ann Applegarth

New Poetry by Ann Applegarth

A PLACE IN THE SUN

     – basking before Earl Stroh’s “Sunscape”

In the museum I love,
we stroll and consider
paintings, sculptures, and
a few random examples
of what passes for art
in this 21st century.
Weary, we sit and gaze
at Stroh’s serene, soothing
Sunscape – palest oils
smoothed in stunning simplicity,
no trace of brush or canvas,
a silk veil of softest paint
encircled by slim silver wire.
Glow and warmth are palpable.
I should have brought my parasol.

              

 

TWO FACES OF BEAUTIFUL

 

In his Albuquerque studio
on an easel near the north window
rests Howard Wexler’s stunning portrait
of artist Alice Seely
regal posture
elegant as a queen
sleek black hair in chic chignon
black velvet décolleté gown
a cloud of maribou encircling the neck
dangling onyx earrings
antique ruby pendant at her throat
aura of Arpège
delicate suede sandals
half-full Baccarat glass of claret
wistful dark eyes gazing into distance
mind in Prague, Nairobi, or New York
“Beautiful woman,” Howard murmurs.
 
At her Hondo Valley Iris Farm,
on a stone bench shaded by trumpet vines
and weathered wood lattice
Alice Seely surveys her garden
leaning forward
arms akimbo — resting on her knees
silver-streaked hair tied back with a scarf
faded denim work shirt
chinos and sturdy leather boots
gray Stetson shading her lovely face
pewter earrings dangling African-straw circles
(her signature design)
mug of black coffee cupped in her hand
luminous dark eyes survey iris, poppies, roses
suggest memory of soft, rich soil
scent of early rains and fragrant compost
“Beautiful this year,” she murmurs.

 
— ANN APPLEGARTH

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Copyright© 2016 by Ann Applegarth. All Rights Reserved.

Ann Applegarth lives and writes in Roswell, New Mexico, where she served as poet-in-residence for the High Plains Writing Project at Eastern New Mexico University. The recipient of an Academy of American Poets prize at the University of New Mexico in 1980, her poems have been widely published in the small press, in online journals, and in the Linda Rael art book Living in Green Acres.

 

Woman on the Strand

Woman on the Strand

Miranda — The Tempest. By John William Waterhouse. 1916

 We have new poetry from Ann Applegarth below.

The ocean, the strand, the interaction between self and sea, between our Being in the world versus our Seeing in the world . . .

Humanity long ago left the realm of an easy oneness with Nature, but a parallel belief held on, at least through the Romantic period: women were naturally still with Her. Nature itself was feminine. Men had lost the link, but not women, and men could retain that link indirectly through women.

Women no doubt view this male construct somewhat differently. Perhaps radically so. Some may find it offensive, sad, silly, amusing, and a host of other things. But it is with us still, in our poetry and art, our music, perhaps our subconscious minds. If Jung is correct, it is a universal archetype we can not escape.

Ann’s poetry is not in answer to this, at least not on the surface. But her second poem does speak quietly of differences within her gender, of the various forms of communication, non-verbal, verbal and the attempt to control environments. In essence, we all do this. We all struggle with our place in the world and our expression of that struggle. All art, all religion, all philosophy boils down to that. An expression of the eternal anxiety of separation which hits us all at the moment of birth.

 

You Know Them Well: New Poems by Ann Applegarth

You Know Them Well: New Poems by Ann Applegarth

LANDLUBBER IN LOVE



I smelled the sea today!

The aroma of salt-crusted roses,
of mother-of-pearl, of adventure,
shared its romance
unwillingly
with
one who is
no part of it.

 

 

 

YOU KNOW THEM AS WELL AS I DO



I never was a woman who could
fling a hank of lustrous hair over her right
shoulder to punctuate declarative
sentences, or one who appears fragile
and small when crying.

Those glossy women have the edge
in life, while the rest of us struggle
against the odds, groping for words
to fling, words that seldom have the
texture of silk or the immediacy of a
gracefully executed feminine gesture.

And when we cry
oh, when we cry, our bodies grow
steel-like and huge, our blotched faces
contort, and our discordant sobs
reverberate even unto three generations.

 

— by Ann Applegarth

 

 

Copyright ©2010 by Ann Applegarth. All Rights Reserved.

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Ann Applegarth was awarded an Academy of American Poets prize at the University of New Mexico in 1980, and her work has appeared in publications such as West Wind Review, Bellowing Ark, Sin Fron teras, The Cresset, St. Anthony Messenger, Christianity & Literature, and the anthologies Shadow and Light; Literature and the Life of Faith and Earth ships; A New Mecca Poetry Collection.  She lives, writes, and administers an annual all-schools poetry contest in Roswell, New Mexico, where she is also poet-in-residence for the High Plains Writing Project at Eastern New Mexico University-Roswell.  To view some more of Ann’s poetry on-line, visit the following sites: ; http://?www.cow-boy.com/roundup6.htm;

 

 

The Elegance of Quick Observations

The Elegance of Quick Observations

The Elegance of the Hedgehog, by Muriel Barbery
The Elegance of the Hedgehog, by Muriel Barbery

 I’m currently about 120 pages into to this marvelous novel, translated from the French by Alison Anderson. A most enjoyable reflection on the human condition, class, Art, sickness, death and how we all seek our own raison d’être. More on this wonderful book later this week . . .

Wanted to welcome Ann Applegarth to Spinozablue. We have one of her fine poems on display here, and hope to present more of her visions from the southwest in the future.

 

Poetry from New Mexico

Poetry from New Mexico


NIGHT CRAWLER



I roam this world on sidewalks littered
with images of violence.
Maintenance crews work overtime,
even on Sundays and Christmas —
stout men, crawling on padded knees,
scrub concrete with caustic detergent,
broad steel-bristled brushes, and
elbow grease.  The stains remain.
My satin slippers darken and fray.
Each dawn finds holes worn through
at least a dozen pairs — and I am
merely one frail princess, attired for
skipping  down streets of polished gold.



— by Ann Applegarth



Ann Applegarth was awarded an Academy of American Poets prize at the University of New Mexico in 1980, and her work has appeared in publications such as Sin Fronteras, St. Anthony Messenger, West Wind Review, Bellowing Ark, Christianity & Literature, and Denali, and the anthologies Shadow and Light: Literature and the Life of Faith, Earthships: A New Mecca Poetry Collection, and Along the Rio Grande.  She lives, writes, and administers an annual all-schools poetry contest in Roswell, New Mexico.  To view some more of Ann’s poetry on-line, visit the following sites: ; ;

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Copyright ©2009, by Ann Applegarth. All Rights Reserved.