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New Poetry by Ann Applegarth

New Poetry by Ann Applegarth


     – 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.





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.… |To be Continued “New Poetry by Ann Applegarth”

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.… |To be Continued “Woman on the Strand”

You Know Them Well: New Poems by Ann Applegarth

You Know Them Well: New Poems by Ann Applegarth


I smelled the sea today!

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





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.… |To be Continued “You Know Them Well: New Poems by Ann Applegarth”

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


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.… |To be Continued “Poetry from New Mexico”

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