That’s the sound one makes after seeing a non sequitur.  What’s a non sequitur you ask.  Well, it’s Latin for “it does not follow.”  huh?  Well, come to Awe Gallery in October and witness non sequiturs up close and in person.  Here’s your personal invitation:Untitled-4

By the way, I’ve been writing a non sequitur poem a day for 2 months.  I’ll stop this practice when the journal is full. Probably another couple of months. Here’s one for you to eat with a fuyu persimmon.

Non Sequitur #12

what comes
is what left
With this, she foregoes the study of sleep.

Why am I smiling?

persimmonsI’ve been smiling all week. Why? The first fuyu persimmons have graced the market. I love these orange-like-apple jewels. Raw, sauteed, roasted. Life can be simple & rich.

I say, to each meal its persimmon. And when persimmon season goes bye-bye, well we’re moving into asparagus time. Life is richly simple.

Here & Now. Full of color

Come to Ebenezer Lutheran herchurch (678 Portola Ave, San Francisco) on 1/26/14 @ 10:30 AM to hear the poem “live.”   herchurch is inclusive, friendly, and creative. See you there.   And, yes, there are lots of ways to love.


Perhaps, yellow is your color. Lots of reasons to love her:


Perhaps, you migrate to blue. Music. Night’s indigo.

No doubt you know, the union blue & yellow creates green.
Who doesn’t love her?

new shoots
the cat’s jade-green eyes.

Perhaps, you are smitten by pumpkin, persimmon, poppy?

Perhaps, redwing blackbirds, raspberries & pomegranates call you?

What of purple, you ask?
Some say, she is. Is the color of community.
Luscious. Tangible.

Know this, always present, she is. Is our energy & each
of us inhabits the spectrum of her breath.

Indeed, lots of reasons to love yellow & blue & green & orange & red &, yes, purple.

Lots of reasons to love every hue.

Lots of reasons to love.

Kit Kennedy



Ruth Asawa January 24, 1926 – August 5, 2013

I knew Ruth well through her work, but never met this visionary artist and until now never sent her this poem. 

INSTRUCTION IN WIRE          for Ruth Asawa

Bend or crochet wire to the need
Observe how light blazes copperphoto-6
Do not rest
Cut the form
Watch is sag
As it opens
Leave the seeds for birds

Kit Kennedy
San Francisco Peace and Hope
Liz Hack, publisher
2012, Chapter 3, Now


The Many Faces of Magdalene

Yesterday at Ebenezer herchurch Lutheran we sent the 21 Magdalene icons back to their visionary artists  with our gratitude and blessing.  Let me share with you the icon written by Christina Gage (right) and the musings I wrote on all 21 paintings.


     honoring the 21 paintings by 18 visionary artists in The Many Faces of the Magdalene exhibit curated by Jennifer Mantle at the celebratory weekend at herchurch April 27-28, 2013, and in anticipation of San Francisco Opera’s production of The Gospel of Mary Magdalene by Mark Adamo

Not out of the whirlwind, from the spectrum She of Red Tears emerges.  She anoints.  Jennifer Mayol

It was no surprise when the dove pecked her cheek the egg turned red.  Guru Kiren

You who sat next to my mother have taken on a quiet, pensive feel.  It’s about time.  Jennifer Mantle

Even the smallest of the small grows under her care.  And the word spreads quickly.  Elizabeth Gibbons “The Magdalene as Guardian of New Life” or “Mary Magdalene Meets Micro Lamb”

The holy is no stranger to the flashy.  Bring on the bling.  Shiloh Sophia McCloud

Above as below, creating is the chalice of my intentional being.  Leslie Nolan

Dearest granddaughter, why shy away from red?  Marilyn McGinley

By the blessed empty, the heart is full.  Elaine Chan-Scherer

The winged consorts – royal and verdant.  Ready. Jessica Bowman

Tend the roses – red/white.  Neither elevated above the other.  Rev. Carole Ann Thomassy

Encircling circles.  Look into my kohl eyes.  See the winged; see the scaled.  See two dragons in harmony.   Elizabeth Gibbons “The Magdalene’s Prophecy”

In a chevron of light, behold my feathery body sojourns the heart.  Linda Joy Schomaker

I come to you shy one.  Look into my gaze.  The candles lit. The cup ready.  Kendall Scott

Take my hand into the wild dance.  Join raven, redwood & creek.  Our greening will be fierce.   Mary Diamond

You have followed the red thread.  You swear I am she.  And, yes, I am.  Susan Conrad Risse

Touch your heart.  Touch my heart.  There is only one heart.  Katie Ketchum “Hold Me

Yes, I look familiar.  In time you will learn your true name.  Katie Ketchum “Magdalene”

I who have been welcomed into your mysteries will gather the scattered.  Katie Ketchum “Isis Initiate”

Why deny the obvious.  Nothing is separate. Solidifying gases form vine & word.  You ask, “Who is home?”  I say, “Welcome, child.”   Sue Hoya Sellars

Behold I am the Eight Fold Path.  Drink from my lotus cup. Maya Telford

In the soft folds of the favorite shawl the color of ripe persimmons, I arrive home.  Christina Gage








Let there be…

& the light
of it

the cat, haiku
& I are light-
watchers —
morningphoto-3& evening
first light;
last light

for words
and above all

& going





Friends I’ve never met…

My father gave me my love of walking; my mother, reading.  Both are friends.  Neither a stranger.  So, let me introduce you to 7 of the friends I’ve never met but know well.  For sure, I know  my life has been enriched by our conversations.

Julia Cameron  — The Artist’s Way
Natalie Goldberg — Writing Down the Bones
Twyla Tharp — The Creative Habit with Mark Reiter, contributor
Stanley Fish — How to Write a Sentence:  And How to Read One
Virginia Woolf — A Room of One’s One
Gertrude Stein — Tender Buttons.   Blood on the Dining Room Floor

and my newest friend:
Austin Kleon — Steal Like an Artist:  10 Things Nobody Told You About Being Creative.

Go to your local bookshop.
Go to your local library.
Get some tea.
Read.  Savor.  Life is good.


All proud & colorful


Some words slip
off the tongue
all satin & sassy.
Some, proud & elegant.
Some shy, wistful.
Others, confident as sea
splayed upon sand.
Same is true of body
with body, luxuriating.
This deliciousness
has no need for words,
for clothes.
Doesn’t exclude lust
or love.

Kit Kennedy
Poet in Residence Bay Times
Published in Bay Times June 27 – July 20, 2013

Poems welcome me home. The same is true of stones.




Quite stunning, polished smooth by nature’s forces. By grace.






And again, the other side of her.  I like to think she’s sharing her life’s experiences.

Sometimes stitches are required to make the body whole. Sometimes the stitching is signature and fingerprint.

And the poem, you ask?   As soon as I held her, I was reminded of the last 5 lines of my poem, Toujours:

what remains when everything gone?

skin’s intricate labyrinth


always compliment the stitching

each day add an accent of red

PS.  Should you put this rock against a candle, you have the synergy of earth & sky.  The evening is good.