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
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
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.
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.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged poem, poetry, surrender, tulip on January 18, 2016| 2 Comments »
tired of blossoming
the tulip
bows
*
tired of being a woman
I become
a tulip
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
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged amazon, barbie, poem, poetry on January 14, 2016| 1 Comment »
Barbie:
They never asked if I wanted to be famous. They just said everyone would love me. What did I know of everyone? That meant my mother and father and grandparents. Oh, and Ken, of course. I didn’t know it meant millions of girls and boys in millions of homes. I never knew that when everyone loves you it means that they also hate you. I’d never heard the word effigy. The burns, the mutilations, the parodies. Don’t think it hurts me any less than anyone else. There was a time I was a girl who wanted only to be loved. Sometimes at night, I remember her.
The Amazon:
Yeah, you try walking barefoot in the jungle. All I want is a pair of Adidas with some thick white athletic socks. And a pair of sweat pants so the mosquitoes don’t bite at my ankles and thighs. And a sun hat. And hey, a book. There was a time when I saw a girl reading at the edge of the jungle. She sat beneath the tree. She sat and sat and sat and sat and turned the pages one after the other. She didn’t move for a whole afternoon. I stalked her but did not pounce. She never knew I was there. I watched her from behind the fern, heard her weeping, heard her laugh. She laughed until she dropped the book. I stole it when she took a nap, but the marks on the page meant nothing to me. Before she knew it was gone, I put it back. I left it open to the picture of me.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged communication, conversation, poem, poetry on January 12, 2016| 1 Comment »
midflight
the doves in my voice
become ravens
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged death, life, poem, poetry on January 12, 2016| 1 Comment »
carcass on the trail
the ribcage emptied, still red—
my own heart beating
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