Blog Archives - High Desert Art

High Desert Art

Endgame

11/30/2017

*Davide Cambria*

Endgame

“The
Gist
Of
It,”
She
Said,
“Is
I’m
Three
Steps
Away
From
Being
Dead.
One
Will
Take
Me
Away
From
Cruel
Loss.
At
Two,
I will
Not
Count
The
Cost
As
Heat
Descends
To
Frost,
And
At
Three
Will
Come
The
End
Of
All
I see,
And
Death
Shall
Be
A
Friend
To
Me.
Look
You,
As
The
Sun
Tops
That
Far
Hill
In
A
Burst
Of
Light
To
Defeat
The
Night,
As
It
Always
Has
And
Always
Will
If
You
Stand
In
This
Spot,
Whether
I am
Here
Or
Not.”

Loss

11/28/2017

*Judith Bridgland*

Loss

In
The
Glow
Of
Night,
Dry
Leaves
Blow
Around,
The
Sound
Like
Water
Over
Stones,
Or
The
Rattle
Of
Bones.
Fallen
From
The
Trees
In
A
Vagrant
Breeze,
They
Gather
In
A
Heap
As
I sleep,
Until
I wake,
And
Once
More,
Pursue
Them
With
My
Rake.

Next, Please

11/26/2017

*The Road To Arroyo Seco* Oil on Paper

Next, Please

After
The
Holiday
Rush,
There
Is
A
Hush.
What
Remains
Is
Put
Away
For
Another
Day
And
Rituals
Depart
As
We
Start
To
Count
Time
As
It
Dwindles,
Until
We
Rekindle
The
Future
Celebration
Of
Our
Weary
Nation,
Fragile
Faith
Only
Slightly
Bruised,
Hope
And
Love
Never
Refused.

Departed

11/24/2017

*Family 2* Brass, Steel, Bronze on Walnut Base 9 3/8" H

Departed

I said
Your
Name
Before
I knew
You,
Before
You
Were
Born.
All
Forlorn,
I recognize
Your
Face
From
Some
Far
Distant
Place,
And
Without
Conscious
Choice,
I hear
Your
Voice.
At
The
Last,
Visions
Of
The
Past
Haunt
The
Day
And
Half
The
Night
Since
You
Are
Gone
Away,
Until
The
Wounds
Admit
The
Light,
And
I tell
Myself
I am
All
Right.

Shame

11/22/2017

Shame

My,
My,
Turns
Out
Congress,
Though
It
Mostly
Fails
To
Act,
Can’t
Repress
A
Lack
Of
Tact
And
Not
Squeeze
The
Behind
Of
Ladies
They
Don’t
Think
Will
Mind,
Or
At
Least,
Not
Freak
And
Expose
Them
As
An
Impotent
Sneak.
Working
In
TV
Does
Not
Permit
Men
To
Get
Cozy
While
Being
Suave
And
Prosy,
As
Beyond
The
Scene,
They
Are
Being
Sexually
Mean.
Power
Is
A
Lethal
Drug,
And
Turns
The
Lecher
Into
A
Thug.

Paean

11/20/2017

*Willem de Kooning* Woman Singing

Paean

I don’t
Play
The
Radio
In
My
Car,
I become
The
Star,
And
Sing.
Racing
Along
The
Highway
North
To
Santa
Fe,
It’s
Just
What
I need
At
Top
Speed.
Once,
I sang
For
Pay,
In
A
City
Far
Away,
But
This
Year,
I sing
Where
No
One
Can
Hear.
I’m
Free,
It
Still
Sounds
Good
To
Me,
And
I’m
Always
On
Key.

Update

11/18/2017

Update

It
Is
With
Mixed
Regret
I face
The
Fact
I’ll
Die
In
Debt.
Bad
Enough
That
I grow
Old,
And
Haven’t
Yet
Discovered
Gold
In
The
Yard
Of
My
Expensive
Dwelling,
Instead
Of
Shelling
Out
A
Heap
To
Re-roof
The
Place,
So
When
I sleep
It
Won’t
Fall
In
My
Face.
The
Sewer
Line
Will
Soon
Be
Fine,
And
I won’t
Have
To
Wade
Through
Muck,
But
Hey,
Can
You
Front
Me
A
Thousand
Bucks?

Fallen

11/16/2017

*Amanda Carey Scott*

Fallen

In
The
Space
Of
A
Day,
All
The
Leaves
Have
Blown
Away
From
Surrounding
Trees.
My
Elm
Holds
On
Tenaciously,
And
Lets
Them
Fall
One
By
One,
Graciously.

Detritus

11/14/2017

Detritus

My
Stars,
The
Neighbors
Have
Dead
Cars.
One
Has
A
Vintage
Truck,
Two
Tires
Flat,
The
Bed
Stacked
With
This
And
That.
This
Wreck
May
Be
An
Object
Of
Love,
But
Saints
Above.
The
Other
Is
Susceptible
To
Rust,
Kept
At
Bay
By
A
Layer
Of
Dust.
I can’t
See
The
Gain,
And
Such
Disarray
Gives
Me
A
Pain.
Broken
Things
Should
Be
Let
Go,
But
I well
Know
The
Affections
Of
Yesterday
Are
Difficult
To
Just
Haul
Away.

Falling

11/12/2017

*tal steinberg*

Falling

Morning
Sun
Turns
Old
Leaves
Gold
And
Scatters
Them
Down
To
Cover
The
Ground
In
Bright
Flakes.
Nature
Makes
Then
Breaks
What
Has
Been
Done
And
Once
Again,
Autumn
Has
Won.
Now
The
Trees
Stand
Bereft,
And
Nothing
Of
Summer
Is
Left,
Until
Spring
Brings
Back
Everything.