Despite the fact
I know what comes
next, despite the fact
I have turned
this page before,
despite the fact
that I tell myself
I will not cry, I will
not cry, despite
the past dragged
up into this moment
like a featherless bird,
despite the sunlight
stretching across
the morning floor,
despite the whisper
that says it’s creepy,
and despite the fact
that it’s not my name,
not my story, not
my song running
so soon out of notes,
I still cry every time I read
those words again,
as long as I’m living
my baby you’ll be.
Archive for January, 2013
So My Kids Pick It Out on Purpose Just to Watch
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged book, literacy, Love You Forever, mom, parenting, poem, poetry, reading on January 11, 2013| 3 Comments »
Six Surprises
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged circe, genie, haiku, poem, sirens, surprises on January 10, 2013| 2 Comments »
ears stuffed with wax—
now hearing Circe
on the inside
*
scraping the ink
off my pages, sending it
for biopsy
*
one palm open
in surrender, the other
rubs the genie lamp
*
not for your pleasure
the winter bird sings—
it sings
*
thinking I outgrew
myself, finding out
I still fit
*
surprise! the genie
says no to three wishes
gives fifteen instead
Upcoming Writing Workshop with Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged playshop, poem, poetry workshop, Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer, uncertainty, Weehawken Arts on January 10, 2013| Leave a Comment »
The Weight of the Unknown: Writing from the unconstricted throat with Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
JANUARY 20, RIDGWAY, CO
10 A.M. TO 4 P.M.
We live in a culture that wants to know-we chart, graph, test, outline, classify, name and judge. But what of all the messiness, mystery and unruly potential that breeds beneath our longing for certainty? What would happen when we engage, as Adrienne Rich writes, with “the weight of the unknown, the untracked, the unrealized?” In this workshop we’ll explore how we might draw strength from “the great muscle of metaphor,” launching our poems and ourselves into the vast realm of possibility. We’ll read poems that lead us deeper into paradox and write poems that know more than we do. Let’s see what even a small bit of wonder might do …
This class is a reprise, back by request, with all new content but has the same emphasis on curiosity and play.
FOR MORE INFORMATION OR TO REGISTER, CALL 970-318-0150 OR GO TO THIS LINK: https://activenet006.active.com/weehawkenarts/servlet/adet.sdi;jsessionid=i7IQMN–bWXj+fev1VqeG1luaDQ?activity_id=898&show_all=&pagenum=1&paid=&online=true
Split Second Decision
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged greeting, how are you, poem, poetry, space, truth on January 10, 2013| 4 Comments »
She says, How are you?
And there is no right way
to answer this. Tell her, Fine,
and she can smile and you
can smile and move on
to the business at hand.
Or tell her, Oh, you know,
and shrug, and then ask
about her day. There are
waterfalls inside you,
steep icy roads, sirens,
tall golden grass as far
as the eye can see,
and for every moment
that you might mention
to her—when he did this or they
said that, or you knew
whatever it was that you knew—
there is all the space
between those moments,
that space perhaps even
more important than
anything that happened.
How you felt the world
dissolve before it returned.
How everything spills,
ravels, pours out. It’s truer
than anything else you know.
But how do you say this?
So you say, Fine. Or you don’t.
You say, well, there’s no way
to say what you will say.
So you open your mouth,
wondering if a black bird
or a beetle or a little lie
or your heart might fly out.
Still Rambling
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged poem, poetry, silence, stillness, surrender on January 7, 2013| 3 Comments »
Silence
I am tired
of evading
you.
Was that
your plan
all along,
to outwait me,
knowing
that sooner
or later
after all that
one-sided
conversation
and rumpus
I’d need a drink
of water
and take
by sweet accident
a sip
of you.
But I Write this Poem, So We Know it’s Not Gone
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged anxiety, fear, miso soup, poem, poetry, the present, worry on January 6, 2013| 2 Comments »
While worrying
about tomorrow,
I make soup.
Sliver the onion,
thin white crescent moons,
and then peel the carrots,
slice them on the bias,
sauté, add dashi, add miso, add scallion,
and boil the udon,
till the whole house
smells of the rich golden broth
and that sharp little mouth
that ceaselessly sings
what if, what if,
is so busy observing
the tang of the ginger—
so pungent, so silver—
it (almost) forgets to insist.
The Sexual and the Spiritual: Telluride’s new Poetry Club talks Rumi & Kandell
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged Arroyo, Art Goodtimes, Daniel Ladinsky, Nancy Owen Barton, poetry, Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer, Telluride, Telluride Poetry Club, The Purity of Desire on January 6, 2013| 8 Comments »
What could be finer than drink some wine, listen to poems, and talk about two of life’s most wonderful, mysterious and sensual experiences–our physical attractions to each other and our spiritual attractions to god. Sex and spirit. That’s how we’ll begin the new Poetry Club in Telluride on January 8 at Arroyo’s fine art gallery and wine bar on 220 E. Colorado Ave.
Led by Art Goodtimes,who will be sharing from Lenore Kandel’s collected works, and Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer, who will share from Daniel Ladinski and Nancy Owen Barton’s new collection of Rumi poems The Purity of Desire, the evening is open to anyone who wants to join us, though we’re looking for members to support the new club. $25 annual memberships will be available. Members will receive regular updates on monthly meetings and special events. Membership contributions will be tax-deductible. The first person to sign up that night receives a free copy of The Purity of Desire.
Daiva Chesonis of Between the Covers will be offering chits to all attendees giving a 10% discount on one book at the bookstore. The first member to sign up at the Tuesday inaugural meeting will also receive a free poetry book.
“In Western culture, the erotic and spiritual are sometimes seen as opposite poles, but in many traditions – including indigenous cultures of the Americas – they are complementary aspects of the sacred,” explained Goodtimes.
After the reading and discussion, which the Wilkinson Library will film and post on YouTube, there will be an unfilmed gourd circle, where folks can bring erotic and spiritual poetry to share – either their own work or from poets they love, or they can just listen in as part of the circle.
The series will normally be held on the first Tuesday of each month and is thanks to the non-profit umbrella of the Telluride Institute and in collaboration with the Wilkinson Library, Arroyo Telluride and Between the Covers Bookstore.
For more information, contact Art Goodtimes, 970-327-4767, or Rosemerry at 970-728-0399.
Four New-lings
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged allowing, approaching the world, haiku, new lens on January 5, 2013| 4 Comments »
like playing piano well
this love, practicing
every day
*
show me, said the leaf
another way to see
the fall
*
trying to find
an oracle when it’s really
just a broken glass
*
cranes in the field!
or just geese—bidding the heart
to swell equally for both
Conversing
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged flute, friendship, haiku, harmony, poem, Wendy Videlock on January 5, 2013| 2 Comments »
Three Beginnings
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged beginnings, haiku, poem, poetry, prayer on January 3, 2013| 3 Comments »
just like heaven
–Katie Melua
she said, girl you ain’t
got a prayer, and I thought that’s
a fine place to start
*
odd, all this snow
around, six below, and here
we are blossoming
*
in the bowl, reflection
of sky—kneeling
I drink it
One Way It Might Look
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged acceptance, peace, poem, poetry, Regret on January 2, 2013| 9 Comments »
When regret comes
with his stale breath
and tattered coat, arriving
at your door as he does
on the chillest night,
it is still easy to want
to close the door
and suggest he move
down the road. You know
if you let him in, he’ll ask
for your last glass of wine,
then wonder aloud
if you have any thread
to fix his overcoat, and
perhaps you know how
to sew? You guess
from that bottomless look
in his eye that no matter what
you do it will not be help enough.
Regret, you might say,
I’ll have none of you.
But you know he’ll come back,
next time with his dog,
its fleas, his flies.
Better, perhaps, to let him
in now. Offer him the wine.
Water, too. And when he says,
If only … then you might say,
I hear you. And when he says,
I wish … then you might say,
It’s not easy. Look him straight
in the eye. You both know
it’s true. He might cry.
It’s okay. You might cry, too.
And outside, the stars,
the stars do what stars
do. The night is cold,
he was right about that.
And the needle, it moves
through the threadbare wool,
your fingers sure of
every stitch.
After the Argument
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged fight, mother, peace, poem, poetry, silence, son on January 1, 2013| 3 Comments »
In the room where the boy
was crying still hangs the feeling
of tears. Though he is quiet
and now asleep. Though
the tides of his wails have lulled
into the slow luff of dream.
His absent howl in the starlit room
is like the sound of the sea
in a dusty shell—not here. But the ears
hear what they want to hear.
There is a choice to notice
the silence, how it fills
the room. Not even the cat is moving.
Or to polish again the memory
of the tears. Like a canker that only
hurts when its touched, but the tongue
visits again and again to be sure.
Oh. Yes. It still hurts.