Tag: poetry

An Ocean Full

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Grief is an ocean of memories

Some days 

I can stand on the sand 

and watch the day begin and end

with a sky of color 

achingly beautiful

and traitorous 

while shallow breath 

makes me feel a thousand things

about still being here

still breathing

still not giving in to the urge 

to dive in 

and never come out –

When the tide is low

and I can sit peacefully 

and watch 

the seabirds ride the air 

it almost feels like joy 

could make its way back

And if I bring myself to the shoreline 

in the dark of night 

in person 

or in dreams

the moon, without express permission

sends the water, 

filled with your voice 

and your smile 

and you’re whole big life

up and over me again

and I have to brace against the pull

of that dark cold sweet nothing 

where we swim together 

in collected moments 

of the life we knew

Poetry day: Factory Reset

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Let’s get those factories built!

the places we can send our parents, children and siblings and spouses and neighbors and co-workers and anyone else who we don’t understand.

the people who are old and have broken parts inside their minds and bodies

Those glitching, fucked up people whose operating programs were adapted along the way so they could survive in difficult situations

There shouldn’t be anyone out there who doesn’t do things the right way,

There should only be people who use the words that I want to hear exactly the way I want to hear them and exactly when I want to hear them

It doesn’t matter how or why they were broken.

It only matters how they are when they are in front of me.

I don’t need to know the story of their lives.

I just need them functioning the way I want them to, right now. 

Where are those damn factories?

There should be places where we can send them to wipe their hard drives and install a new, clean and efficient operating program so that I can finally, have the person that I want standing in front of me, saying what I want to hear the way I want to hear it and doing the things I want them to do exactly the way I want them done. 

Where are those god damn factories?

Poetry Day: The Waterway

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The Waterway

I am in the water

Just one drop

Yet a vital piece

of the world’s oceans

And when it’s my time

To return 

I will move with the wave

Back into the blue

To become the rain

The snow

The place

where ancient whales roam

And microscopic life feeds

All the creatures great and small

I will move back through the people

I love as cold relief on a hot day

And when I emerge

From that tight place behind your eye

As a tear

I will see what you see

And I will feel

The soul embrace you give

That sets me free 

To caress your face

Once again

Poetry Day: Like a Song

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Your memory hangs

Like a song on the air

A tune I know so well

Whispering through the trees

Pulling on my heart

Sweet soft weight

Of all that you were

Still here

Like a song

I’ll never hear enough

In the air

That I breathe

South 131

Poetry Day: Winds of Change

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Winds of Change

invisible breath comes

softly first

seen by petals dancing

gaining speed and

bending my deep rooted tree

to the breaking point

roaring down

like a runaway train

into my life

carrying away

everything

i do not have the courage

to let go of.

gone now –

all the reasons

excuses

sad procrastinations

and seance candles

lit to conjure

things long dead

i can not tear

my vision from

and on it’s leaving

in silence

sitting on dirt

i will grow new things

better things

watered

with my grief

Haiku: Wildflowers

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Whomever wakes me so early whispering poetry to me, thank you.

M22 just South of Lee Mann Rd- July1,2022 7:15am

Wildflowers

like wildflowers i

will always crowd the entrance

to your heart my love

NaPoWriMo2021 Verbiage Distillation 01

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Trying a new approach to this poetry challenge, planner this time instead of pantser. Letting the words unfurl in a jumble and then cooking them down to their essence. Distilling to obtain the soul of the thought flow. Here goes. Poem 01 of 30…

Poetry Day: Monarch

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Monarch

Dirty hands in the garden

Flowers in their places- just so.

Ready now for Monarchs 

as they make their way north from Mexico.

Time and money and work

to get it right and make it welcoming

for these elusive visitors.

A few weeks on-

flowering nicely

alone.

Wandering back to the barn

along the edge of the woods

where wild things grow

stood dozens of milkweed plants

sharing their heady fragrance

with the bees and monarchs 

who were busy with their work.

Strange, just then, to think of me at 25. 

Remembering the time and money and work

to make myself a garden

for a monarch 

and in the end of that-

it wasn’t about the shine and the slope,

the curves and the tightness

the tone or the petal covering-

The monarch settled happily

On a wild familiar flower

We could learn much from

accepting what the monarch wants.

PicsArt_07-14-12.38.57

 

 

NaPoWriMo2020 Poem #29 of 30: The Gates

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The Gates

I knew

the moment

I pushed through those gates

that the life I had

could never be again

there is no turning back

when you’ve burned your past

and you’re carrying

all your worldly goods

in the hollow

of your broken heart

PicsArt_04-28-11.37.51

 

NaPoWriMo2020 Poem #28 of 30: Between

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an 11 word poem. # 28 of 30

Between

Between

no longer

and

not yet

lies

everything

you

could

be

PicsArt_04-28-11.28.22