Posted in Uncategorized, tagged communication, erik satie, poem, poetry, relationship, speech on September 3, 2019| Leave a Comment »
inspired by Erik Satie, Gnossienne 1
same phrases, same sighs,
we’ve said them, sighed them before—
and each time the chance
to find (mid-syllable) a door, a new wildflower,
a raincoat, blue, perhaps a wing
(to hear the music, click here. This direction is given when the initial theme is repeated)
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged clarity, communication, poem, poetry on August 7, 2019| Leave a Comment »
dang, how the songbird
mutters sometimes, and slurs,
forgets how even the most
discordant song can be beautiful
when it’s sung clear
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged cliche, communication, poem, poetry on July 31, 2019| Leave a Comment »
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged communication, communion, gratitude, poem, poetry, translation on May 19, 2019| 3 Comments »
Once I would say “table,” and mean
“table.” Once, I would say
“broccoli” and mean “broccoli.”
I would say “stone” and mean
“stone.” I really did believe
that things were separate.
And nameable. Now,
every word that comes
out of my mouth, no matter
how many syllables, no matter
the tone of voice, no matter
my intention, I’ve come to understand
that every word
is really just a translation
for thank you,
thank you for this moment.
And every silence between the words,
regardless how brief,
is really just the sound
of one hand in gratitude clapping.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged college, communication, poem, poetry on April 26, 2019| Leave a Comment »
Years later I wake in the night and remember
the way he banged on my bedroom door.
He was drunk and he begged me to let him in.
I was in my dorm room bed, and my best friend
was visiting. The interruption angered her
and she hissed in the dark, Don’t you dare.
I told him to go away. He didn’t.
He pounded and begged and shouted.
Please, he said, before I heard him crumple
at the base of the door where I believe
he fell asleep. By morning, he was gone.
It wasn’t only my door I had closed,
it was my heart. I didn’t understand then
that I was too frightened to let him in.
I didn’t comprehend how our fear
makes us small. Years later, I want
to open the door. I want to meet him
before the drunken night and tell him, I hear you.
I want to thank him for bringing me his heart.
I want to tell myself, You are capable
of sharing difficult feelings. I want
to write a new night and walk with him
through the dark, the only pounding
our fragile hearts.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged communication, koi no yokan, language, poem, poetry, spaces on January 26, 2019| 2 Comments »
with thanks to JT
all day leapfrogging
from known to known to known
missing the feelings between the feelings—
ten thousand mysterious spaces
waiting for us to fall in
https://www.bbc.com/reel/video/p05sn4xx/the-untranslatable-japanese-phrase-that-predicts-love
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged brother, communication, daughter, kindness, parenting, poem, poetry, sibling, sister, son on December 14, 2018| 2 Comments »
And after the boy
hugs his sister
and tells her
she did a great job,
after he wipes
her tears and holds
her and wraps her
in his awkward arms,
after she leans
into him, their
sapling trunks
sloping toward
each other,
I want to tell him
how proud I am
of the ways
he is growing,
want to affirm
how much depends
on love, want
to say I see his tenderness,
but the soil beneath
them is unstable,
precious, and my voice
is full of heavy clouds,
so I wait until
they sway apart,
then I walk closer
and manage to say
through invisible rain,
It’s time.
Let’s go home.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged communication, garden, love, poem, poetry, vulnerability on October 10, 2018| Leave a Comment »
tossing my gloves
to pull carrots with naked hands—
this, how I long to speak with you
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged communication, language, light, poem, poetry, transformation on June 17, 2018| 2 Comments »
Just as the sun enters the room
and changes the feel, the warmth,
and the power to perceive,
the right word, too,
can be a beam, can shine
into an evening, bring
glimmer, tidings of light,
make even the darkest corners
shine. Yes even one word
can become a prayer,
a gate we pass through
to find ourselves luminous.
