while I shovel
and fold clothes and wash
bowls and chop
yellow peppers, all day with both hands
I cradle your heart
*
while I am walking
you are all around me,
you go on as far as I can see—
I have no stars to offer you,
you hold me, anyway
Archive for January, 2016
Two Tendernesses
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged connection, poem, poetry on January 31, 2016| 2 Comments »
Just Playing Around, this time with the link
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged collaboration, Kyra Kopestonksky, poem, poetry, vulnerability on January 31, 2016| 3 Comments »
Hi friends,
Yesterday my good friend Kyra Kopestonsky came over to play cello … she has a grant application due so we were making videos of collaborative pieces we’ve performed together before. What a great way to spend a morning hour, reciting poems and making music. It’s a little echo-y, but here’s a playful version of “Post Script”. I love the way the cello underlines all the fragility–proof somehow that through resonance we can support each other in our most vulnerable places. Good luck, Kyra, getting that residency!
Inner Eden
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged beauty, garden, poem, poetry on January 31, 2016| 6 Comments »
And if I found in me
a spot of land where
anything could grow—
some miraculous soil
that knows only yes—
then what would
I dare sow?
In such tender
territory, even breath
might take root.
A whisper becomes
a seed becomes
an unknowable
flowering. A song,
of course, I’d
plant a love song.
But imagine if,
as I knelt, lips to earth,
a loneliness spilled
from my pockets,
strewing its millions
of tired spores
throughout the plot.
And what if an arrow
from an old wound
chose then to dislodge?
Is it in fear or in joy
I dance at the edge
of inevitable fertility, longing
for the impossible—
to plant only beauty,
its fruits reseeding
all around us growing
only more beauty,
more beauty.
One Self Portrait
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged fool, grace, poem, poetry on January 30, 2016| 1 Comment »
the house on fire
and me still trying
to get all the beds made
*
One Grace
what is the next step—
letting myself not know
until I am stepping
There is a Moment When
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged communion, darkness, night, poem, poetry, self, union on January 28, 2016| 3 Comments »
the dark is less dark
and the shapes of the world
reveal again their singular shapes—
I know they don’t really lose their lines in the dark,
but I like to imagine all those newly
illumined silhouettes
have spent the night blurred, puddled
into one immense darkness,
forgetting for a while
that they have any lines
worth preserving.
It is enough to make a woman
wish that the light
would never come
if that is what it takes
to make us all remember
how arbitrary they are,
these boundaries we like
to call ourselves.
Five Currents
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged ice, personal growth, poem, poetry, river on January 28, 2016| 6 Comments »
choked with ice
the river impedes itself—
I catch myself
thinking
it is beautiful
*
why dream
of unrestricted days
says the part of me
that stands
in my way
*
love, let us
be naked together—
how did we ever
get fooled that we
are not enough?
*
dark current
its edges invisible—
just because
we can’t see the path
doesn’t mean it isn’t there
*
a lifetime,
not long enough
to watch the river move across itself
and still this moment
holds everything
Cruciferous
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged cauliflower, love, poem, poetry on January 26, 2016| 3 Comments »
Tonight I have fallen in love with cauliflower,
the way that it gives itself so completely
to the soup, the way it informs the curry
with nutty sweetness, with bitterness.
I love the way it turns to cream, how it
loses all sense of its former shape
and is still so wholly present.
I know it is foolish, perhaps, to toss around
a word so important as love, to spend it
on a vegetable. No, I tell myself,
it is worse not to fall in love with cauliflower,
worse to pretend that it isn’t a gift,
an invitation to praise. Such simple worship,
a bowl, a spoon, a willing tongue.
Obituary poem published on Rattle
Posted in Uncategorized on January 26, 2016| 2 Comments »
What do you wish they might say about you when you die? I was horrified by the headline for football player Lou Michaels in the New York Times … that prompted this poem, published today on Rattle.com, After My Friend Phyllis Shows Me the New York Times Obituary Headline: “Lou Michaels, All-Purpose Player, Dies at 80, Missed Kicks in ’69 Super Bowl”
As far as process goes, I was curious how the poem began as a rant, but by the end, I felt mostly humbled. Oh poetry, how I love what it does to us. I want to mention that the quote in the poem is from Wayne Muller, and if you want to see more of his incredible work, I took the quote from his book “A Life of Being, Having, and Doing Enough” (Harmony, 2010).
After
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged nightingale, philomela, poem, poetry, truth on January 25, 2016| 1 Comment »
cut off my tongue, then,
so I can’t say what I know,
and turn me into a nightingale
there are other ways to sing—
feel the sun, how it always tells the truth
One Remedy
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged love, poem, poetry on January 24, 2016| 1 Comment »
Four Vastnesses
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged darkness, poem, poetry on January 22, 2016| 1 Comment »
You darkness that I come from, I love you
—Rainier Maria Rilke
not the moon, but
the darkness around the moon
this love
*
given prison bars
the darkness
slips right through
*
darkness in the tea—
I bring it into me
cup after cup
*
standing at the edge
the first step
is the only step
And I Can’t Stop Laughing
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged love, poem, poetry on January 21, 2016| 1 Comment »
yesterday
I wanted love to come to me,
today I choose
to love everything
in my path
That’s Right
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged honesty, poem, poetry, tea on January 20, 2016| 3 Comments »
I’ve shown up naked
to tea. I know it’s not
the proper thing to do.
In fact, I am a bit surprised
myself to be wearing
nothing more than a pink scarf.
I was wearing more
when I left the house.
At least it is soft, the scarf,
and at least it is warm,
the tea. You don’t have
to pretend you don’t notice
and I’ll not pretend
either. No, let’s go on.
Yes, that’s right,
it’s a bit uncomfortable
I suppose, as all things are
at first. We’ll get used to it.
Who knows, maybe
by the time we pass the cream
you’ll have slipped off
your own button up shirt,
your embarrassment, your belt.
Maybe by the time
we get to the bottom
of our cups we’ll wonder
why we ever spent an afternoon
any other way.
Skipping a Beat
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged ladder, poem, poetry, trust on January 19, 2016| 1 Comment »
Climbing down
the makeshift
ladder, the
primary
lesson is
trust, and
the second-
ary lesson
is trust more.
Two Surrenders
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged poem, poetry, surrender, tulip on January 18, 2016| 2 Comments »
Two Pleasures
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged pleasure, poem, poetry on January 15, 2016| 1 Comment »
in the kitchen
slow dancing
no music
*
scent of pumpkin pie—
some things
are always welcome
One Doomed Conversation
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged communication, conversation, poem, poetry on January 12, 2016| 1 Comment »
One
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged death, life, poem, poetry on January 12, 2016| 1 Comment »
Four Circlings
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged death, life, poem, poetry on January 10, 2016| 1 Comment »
this gray afternoon
we walked circles around death—
the sun came out
*
be brave, I tell myself
until the only voice I hear—
be true
*
on the wrist
of the man with hours to live
the watch tells perfect time
*
make of my body
a bridge, now to now,
love to love, life to life