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Archive for March, 2019

One Bowing to Basho

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , on March 31, 2019| Leave a Comment »

 

 

 

venom from the boy—

reminding myself

that this, too, is the moon

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One Near Miss

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , on March 31, 2019| Leave a Comment »

 

 

walking right past

that man she would later marry—

fruit still green on the vine

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They Say It’s the Best Bloom in Ten Years

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , , , on March 29, 2019| 6 Comments »

 

 

She wants to go see the bluebonnets, she says.

This is after she tells me they’ve said she has three months to live.

And I want to find her vast fields of bluebonnets,

acres and acres of white-tipped blue bloom.

And I want to send her more springs to see them in,

more days to live one day at a time. I want to remove

the pain in her belly, the pain that aggressively grows.

I want to make deals with the universe. Want to say no

to the way things are. I want to tell death to wait.

I want to tell life to find a way. I want to hug her

until she believes she’s beloved. I want to give her

the pen that will write every brave thing

that she’s been unable to say. There are days

when we feel how uncompromising it is, the truth.

How human we are. There are days when the bluebonnets

stretch as far as the eye can see. There are days

we know nothing is more important than going to see them,

a billion blue petals all nodding in the wind, teaching us to say yes.

 

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One Staff

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , on March 28, 2019| Leave a Comment »

 

 

 

all those beautiful notes—

letting them fall from the score

and not rushing

to arrange them again,

listening as new songs arise

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A Little Secret

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , on March 27, 2019| 5 Comments »

 

 

The white sauce whisked to smoothness

before the cheese is added,

and the elbow noodles boiled till they’re al dente,

 

the Pyrex buttered with long looping swirls of the fingers,

the cheddar spread evenly on top.

It is not easy for most people to see

 

devotion in the mac and cheese.

It doesn’t look like prayer.

But it’s there.

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To the Death

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , on March 26, 2019| 6 Comments »

 

 

 

And so it is that Love

threw at my feet her glove,

a long white one, perhaps,

but nonetheless a glove.

I took it up because

I knew the rules, and Love

looked me right in the eyes

and speared me with her words:

“It’s easy to fall in love

with spring, but can you care

for everything—the dross,

the dreck, the scum, the muck,

the loss, the wreck, the grime,

the dust? And can you find them

in you, too? And can

you fall in love with you?

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Absence

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , on March 25, 2019| 2 Comments »

 

 

The bluebirds return.

It never occurs to me to chastise them for leaving.

It’s what they do.

 

All day, I think

of their shallow wing beats,

their slow flight,

 

their bright blue fluttering,

and how easily, how instantly yesly

my heart rises up to meet them.

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Inquiry

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , on March 24, 2019| Leave a Comment »

 

 

How has pride helped your family?

That is a question I’ve never asked.

Nor How do you treat yourself

 

when you think “I must give others choices?”

And suddenly it occurs to me

that I always ask the same questions.

 

How was your day? and Peanut butter

sandwich or bagel with cream cheese?

I have been thinking of new questions today.

 

What do you have to teach me?

Earth, what do you want? and

Where do I begin? But these are still

 

questions I can think of. I want to learn

new questions, questions I don’t yet know to ask.

Questions that scare me. Questions that make me

 

weep just hearing them. Questions

I know I will spend a lifetime

learning how to answer

 

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Springing

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , on March 23, 2019| Leave a Comment »

 

 

 

I am reborn into the world of radiance—

crystalline icicles, glittering reaches of snow—

and whatever in me is old brown stick,

whatever in me is withered rose hip,

whatever is desiccated and dead takes notice

of the shine and says, Teach me that.

 

I am reborn into the world of drip

and melt and streets of mud,

and whatever part of me is muck-squeamish

and sludge resistant goes walking anyway

and wallows and squishes and slips and laughs.

 

In that slippery moment, the part of me

who has died becomes lotus.

And who is it in me that scoffs

and says Who are you to be lotus?

I show her diamonds in the field,

the big blue dome of sky, the vast

expanses of glistening mud,

and I ask her, Who are you not to be?

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Emerging Form: Getting Started

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , on March 23, 2019| Leave a Comment »

emerging form

In our fourth episode of Emerging Form, a podcast on creative process, my co-host Christie Aschwanden and I explore Getting Started. Ever have a creative project you just couldn’t seem to begin? Ever been stared down by a blank page? In this 28-minute episode, we look at lots of tips for getting started, we discuss working through perfection anxiety, paralysis of analysis, the blank page blues and so much more. Then we interview amazing poet and writing coach Judyth Hill and ask her two burning questions about how to get started. Join us!

Also, check out our back episodes on emerging form, is talent necessary and existential despair.

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