tossing my gloves
to pull carrots with naked hands—
this, how I long to speak with you
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 ars poetica, paradox, poem, poetry, vulnerability, writing on September 12, 2018| Leave a Comment »
pulling on my mask
as my nom de plume
unbuttons her blouse again
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged bicycle, poem, poetry, rain, storm, vulnerability on September 2, 2018| 2 Comments »
Standing beneath the pinion tree
I am almost dry, while all around me
the rain almost attacks the road.
I lean my head against its shagging bark
and watch the world transform from dust
to shine. Thunder rends the darkened sky.
I knew when I began the ride
the rain was impatient.
I knew it would be no gentle shower.
How odd to trick myself into being
caught in a storm. How often I choose the gale.
Small bits of bark tear off in the wind,
fall to the cactus, the dirt. Eventually,
I am no longer content to watch
and pull my bike into the rain. Wasn’t
this what I wanted somehow, to be
unguarded, exposed, out? Within a minute
my clothes stick to my skin, and I shiver,
in part from the chill, in part because
I, too, have become a shining thing.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged cat and mouse, poem, poetry, vulnerability on August 27, 2017| Leave a Comment »
(title is a quote from Amy Irvine McHarg)
here kitty, kitty,
she says, crooking her finger,
her mouse heart leaping against her chest
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!
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged appearance vs. reality, poem, poetry, vulnerability on September 20, 2015| 2 Comments »
She sports it
like a skimpy t-shirt,
but underneath
she wears a vest,
bullet proof.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged courage, love, poem, poetry, vulnerability on August 10, 2015| Leave a Comment »
Too long I have dared to not dare,
love. Here, here is my whole heart,
and here is the fence I built
around it and here is the match
to burn the fence and while we are at it,
the doors, too, and the walls
and the weathervane.
I have no idea what comes next.
Fabulous.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged opening, poem, poetry, spring, vulnerability, winter on May 17, 2015| 2 Comments »
They are still tight,
the buds on the chives.
They are wise not to open.
After a brief spring
it is winter again.
Days of white, nights of white,
thick snow and heavy sky.
Last week, when the birds
were singing, I opened.
I didn’t think of it then
as a vulnerable thing to do.
It seemed so dependable,
the sunshine of you.
I should have taken a hint
from the iris still folded
deep in their green envelopes.
Oh damn this lilac heart,
how it rushes to bloom.
The forecast is for winter all spring.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged apricot blossom, poem, poetry, transcience, vulnerability on March 28, 2015| 2 Comments »
anytime it might freeze—
still, they open wild inside me
apricot blossoms
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged charades, honesty, parenting, poem, poetry, vulnerability on December 1, 2013| 2 Comments »
Mommy, she says, walking up
to me and my son as we gesture
and guess and giggle,
Mommy, she says, I feel
like I want to hurt someone
right now. And she lays down
between my son and me, and
offers me her eyes. I think how
brave she is to identify
a feeling and stare it straight on.
It’s not hard to uncover
she feels left out of the game
and wants to join in. Oh give
me such candor, such willingness
to say what I mean and lay myself
down to rest in the middle of things
with such (one word, five syllables,
fifth syllable sounds like plea)
vulnerability.
