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Archive for November, 2017

One Blustery

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , on November 20, 2017| Leave a Comment »

 

 

enormous wind—

hanging on to my smile

so it won’t blow away

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One Over the Loudspeaker

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , on November 20, 2017| Leave a Comment »

 

 

 

and suddenly I’m singing

in the cereal aisle,

unable to turn the music up

and dancing anyway—

the words spin me

like old friends,

My older self looks back

at me and says,

that’s right,

move it sister

while you still hear

the music, while you still

can dance.

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After All This Talk of Healing

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , on November 18, 2017| Leave a Comment »

 

 

 

the only thing

that matters

is the wound—

from a dark nest

comes gold

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One Stormy Night

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , on November 18, 2017| 6 Comments »

 

 

every cloud

a love letter—

and me, still learning to read

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One Almost

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , on November 16, 2017| Leave a Comment »

 

 

 

writing a letter on a leaf

and throwing it to the wind—

all day it smells like rain

 

 

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One Game

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , on November 16, 2017| Leave a Comment »

 

 

 

silence

a Frisbee we toss

between heartbeats

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One Flying Lesson

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , on November 14, 2017| Leave a Comment »

 

 

 

pulling the rug out

from under my own feet—

who knows where I’ll land next

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Time for a Change

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , on November 14, 2017| 3 Comments »

with thanks to Alan Cohen

 

 

rearranging the furniture,

that works for a while—

what the heart really wants

is to take out

the walls

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La Petite Mort

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , on November 12, 2017| 8 Comments »

 

 

Raven me, river me, tremor, deliver me,

pink me, tall drink me, unfurl,

 

canyon me, plunder me, lightning and thunder me,

tide me, tsunami me, curl,

 

rob my dark berry, my wheat field, my mango,

wring from my cloud all its rain,

 

unsmall me, outsprawl me, earthquake and enthrall me,

undo me, unwho me again.

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Knowing You’ll Never Be a Champion Wrestler

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , on November 12, 2017| Leave a Comment »

 

title and poem inspired by Jack Ridl

 

 

But if you were, you’d buy one of those thick rubber mats

and spread it out in the living room. You’d invite doubt

for a match. You’d shift in your corner from foot to foot,

crouched like a hunter, arms flexed, legs spry.

You’d stare doubt in the eye, that heel, and wait

for the ref’s bright whistle. The rules are not real rules.

Doubt doesn’t stand a chance against you—

not with your choke slam, your dropkick,

your iron claw, your pile driver. You

with your full nelson, your moonsault,

your flapjack, your guillotine drop. You’ll have doubt

on her back, begging you to stop. You smile at her

as the ref leans in, then snarl, then smile again.

You’ll let her make the first move. You’ll have the last.

Oh yeah, you’ve got this. The belt’s already yours.

God, you love this sport, this fight. Blow the whistle,

already. You’ve read the script. Hot damn. This is your night.

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