Joanna Gilman Hyde

"Good Morning, World!"

Tag: bird life

M(EYE) FLOCK

The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 12:17pm

They flew above Me

surrounding My View

by the hundreds —

a thick flock of Blue Jays

where before I had always seen

Their Brilliance singularly

or in pairs —

I saw Them all around

weighted in The Scraggly Apple

even landing on the deck —

it doesn’t matter what

I was thinking or

where I was standing

— EYE Saw Them —

7:14 AM

The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 7:28am

The Sun Is Following Me —

EYE used to see It rise

@ 5:00 o’clock in the morning

when I first escaped from Olanzapine

when I heard The Rooster @ 6:00

and The Cow Bird kept Me company —

now I have The Sun again

after three full nights in a row

of sleep —

I got up after 7:00

and there It was

out My Kitchen Window

lining the clouds on the horizon

with Its pearly gold

of enchantment

and after I looked @ My Watch

That Old Familiar Spark Appeared

and grew into My Friend

POST TUB

September 21st, 2016

The Hawk Queen Bed, Near Midnight

Was there ever really an age

of Innocence?

The Lumps of Years

hardly matter anymore —

was it when My Children

were Children?

was it when I was

knocked out every night

on ten milligrams of Olanzapine

not knowing in the morning

if I dreamed?

Today marks Week Fifteen

since I stopped It

at The Site of a Rainbow

and I was going to write

a letter to London, England

to a man I treasured

when I was three —

My Mother’s Lover —

He is old now

and wonders if He’s written

His Last Book —

He takes care of A Man

He Loves — Who has Alzheimer’s —

takes Him when The Man’s Institution

welcomes a break —

I was going to write

that on Week Fourteen

I bleached & bleached

the growing blackness off My Deck

to make It look like driftwood —

It came out looking like that anyway

and My Daughter was proud —

I was going to write

that I replaced the old gold handles

on My Kitchen Cabinets

with wrought-iron-looking ones

picked out by Eliza

and what else did I do today?

I prayed for a dog.

I cooked Day Six

of Our New Ketogenic Diet

resulting from Eliza’s visit

and I believe I am better

off for It — though

I wonder about sleep —

the low carbohydrate level tends to rev Me up

Eliza suggests warm milk

with one tablespoon of honey

at bed time —

should I sleep in Her Room

again?

The Next Morning:

The Hawk Deck 10:17am

I slept with Hunter

not before two o’clock in the morning

and woke with a dream

of being about to meet

The Daughter of The Man

EYE LOVE

I changed Eliza’s sheets —

Her Comforter is hanging out

on the line —

and I heard The Rooster

again

before I got up

to make The Coffee

 

 

 

SHE GREETED ME

The Hawk Queen Bed 4:25am

She greeted Me in ruffled satin

lavender and sleeveless

as She signed Her Self out

so We could sit outside

looking at the harbour

with tea and coffee

and the blue sky

where a flock of geese flew in V formation —

She pointed to where She had been injected

on Her Hip

for a thirty-day stint

of a medication She could not pronounce

and mentioned how The Head Psychiatrist

had called Her Name

and asked Her if She had worked

on a puzzle today —

back inside

She ate pink salmon and dill

for supper

and pointed to Her Self-cut Hair-do

Her Raven Hair

to say the fish was good

for Her Brain —

an oral dose of Seroquel

was brought to Her at the table

and My Beautiful Friend

choked it down

while The Nurse said

“It’s Your After Dinner

Mint.”

THE STORY OF A MAP

THE COAST GUARD, Shelburne, N.S., Tuesday, July 20th, 1993 — 1B

SATELLITE ART FOR EXTRATERRESTRIALS

by Harold Hart

Joanna Hyde of Shelburne has

been busy recently in her back-

yard painting the design of a four-

teen point maple leaf on a huge

40 by 30 foot map of Canada.

The fourteen points mark loca-

tions in Labrador and Quebec

where Hyde would like to position

light reflecting surfaces to reflect

star-like points of light in the out-

line of a maple leaf into outer

space.

The large map arrived in Shel-

burne from Ottawa on May 17

where it had been hanging on an

outside wall of the National Arts

Centre.  It was put there by the

Canadian Conference of the Arts

earlier in the year in an effort to

pressure the Federal Govern-

ment to stop cutting funding for

arts programs.  It remained there

until the April 26 budget was

passed.

Joanna learned about the map

from an article in The Chronicle

Herald.  Being interested in what

is called public art – the kind of

art which is large and displayed

outdoors – Joanna decided she

wanted the map.  She contacted

the coordinator of the Canadian

Conference of the Arts and was

told she could have the map if she

would pay the shipping charges.

Joanna agreed and wound up the

new owner for just less than two

hundred dollars.

The map consists of twelve sec-

tions that were circulated to

more than 150 art galleries,

theatres, and schools in each

province where signatures were

affixed to protest government

funding cutbacks for the arts.

Once joined together the pieces

make a huge map of the country

with more than 400,000 signatures

appearing on it…

“Well, what is its weight?”

“Oh, it’s Dead Weight.”

“That’s OK.  I just cremated

My Mother —

She didn’t weigh very much.”

After She painted Her 14-point Maple Leaf

Joanna lay down

and almost died.

She almost died

for years and years.

Long after one husband

cut up the map for tarps

to cover wood piles

at Her First Marital Home

Joanna revived eventually

on poetry and bird song

to find in the Summer of 2016

the abandoned map sections —

one with moss and ferns growing

out of it —

With the help of Her Adult Children

She retrieved three surviving pieces

of The Giant “Ties That Bind

and dragged them across the county

to The East Side of Her Hawk House.

She laid them out

busy in Her Back Yard

hosing and scrubbing a 23-year build up

of Nova Scotia’s Forested Fate

stained and distressed

front and back

to dry in the sun

with the help of a couple of old towels —

not Her Grey One —

there was left no semblance of the configuration

of Canada — only the ghost

of a few red lines

a few patches of indelible signatures

and one partial strip of big black letters

along what must have been

the bottom — in English and French:

…FUNDING FOR ARTS AND CULTURE

She arranged the pieces

some still edged by sturdy grommets —

into what became a nearly perfect square

measuring 27 feet by 23.5 feet:

She had Her Canvas.

She would paint on the BACK.

She folded up the three sections

and with the help of Her Second Husband

She piled Them onto the floor

of The Hawk Utility Room —

the floor She had been using

for Her Most Recent Paintings

and as She writes, She thinks

of building a platform

a stage

perhaps next summer

if there is the same lack of rain

as this one —

She would secure The Triptych

upside down, with the foundation

of Canadian signatures — what’s left of the original

400,000

and setting up Her Gallons of Paint

with broom and hose nearby

She would paint and sweep and hose

Stratosphere of The Universe

 

 

AT THE SIGN

The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 9:51am

I stood bare-footed beside My Rose

above It, twice

and first I heard a Blue Jay

and second My Mother’s Chickadee

and as I looked at the numerous blossoms

I heard the surf of The Cape

and reveled in the fog droplets

upon the fertilized leaves

WEEK 6

The Hawk Deck 10:10am

I have said Good-bye

to My Darling Cow Bird

Whose love affair with My Car Mirror

is gone

He bowed off with another

female two weeks ago —

I have said Hello

to My Husband

and will be hanging The Bedding

in Our Hot Sun

I will be playing

The Cow Bird’s Song

on an internet recording

for The Arrival

of My Children

one week

tomorrow

CROSSINGS

The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 6:14pm

I missed the cutest waddle

of a mother duck and Her Ducklings

crossing The Hawk Road

while I was zooming

sleep-deprived

to get to The Little Store —

I swerved to avoid the adorable clutch

and got mad at My Self

but not mad enough to slow down

in time to take in

the rare amusement

of Their very serious venture

THE LAVENDER ROOM

The West Desk Window 11:25am

Eliza’s lovely little room

was an assignment

for Me to sleep

and By God I slept —

I slept and woke —

woke and slept and dreamed

and tossed off My Love Ring Quilt

and watched The Sun emerge

from The Eastern Waters —

I listened to the early birds

the crows and gulls

and song birds

and yes, the funny funny Rooster

I watched The Sun hit

the wall by the door

and now I am out of there

I have returned to My Husband

and The Cats —

the old dilapidated comforter

the mismatched sheets

and the open window to The West

 

TO BE A BIRD

The Hawk Deck 1:50pm

What Does It Mean

To Be A Bird?

Not Just That You

Can Fly —

You can take care of Your Self —

feed Your Self & Your Young —

(though not Your Young if You’re a Cow Bird)

preen Your Self & bathe

stretch Your Wings & Your Claw Feet

fluff up Your Glistening Feathers & bow

Exclaim from Your Perch —

Yes, Exclaim

in Your God-given Voice

that You are Happy

To Be Alive