Category: Poetry

Ravel

My compass whirls meaninglessly, disoriented,and I am blinded by the afterimageof a brilliance that was never really mine.Empty, finally, in the face of what I cannotun-know within my own heart,enclosed by the dense unrealityof the person projected on the shellof a self that never really was.I grieve the necessity of what will be,the only resolution … Continue reading Ravel →

Darning

The warp of my life is writtenin the words no one dared to speak.Secret shames and sorrowsspun fine, a story strong enoughto break open a heart. I spillinto these jagged places, emptied,cavernous enough to hold all that isin tenderness, seen. I am nothing.This thread, the patterning, is at timesan incandescent agonyfed by each breath, choking.This … Continue reading Darning →

Quenching

Some words once spokencan never again be silenced.Some truths once knowncan never be set down.They hang, shimmering, betweenall you were and all you became,between what you've lovedand all you could have been.There are choices that spring forthfrom the sundering at the foundationsof a soul broken open by the rootsyou wove into yourself, a rhizomaticrelatedness with … Continue reading Quenching →

Three Tools: (a writing workshop):

One: Collaborative Wordbank: (mountain):Rooted in the watersTheir flow the beginning and the edge of beingA lush invitation, to the depths fallingThere is refuge only in the walkingSettled rhythms workingThe deep release of standing in now Two: Frame of Reference: (a teapot):Writer to Object:Hard edged but not angularRidged and communicative to fingertip and tongueWarm, wet inhalations … Continue reading Three Tools: (a writing workshop): →

safety is (not) a passage

Molten I am, cracking my shell,devour my own abandoned flesh;nutritive, my hunger burns the hotter,a sacrifice shrouded in the roots which rundeeper on the path at our feet, the pathfound only in what feeds us.lapping waters spill from lipslimned by a fresh confusion,opening vistas ordered along newly broken lines;a narrative written in breath and beingand … Continue reading safety is (not) a passage →

The Sight

There are daysI yearn for the languageto put all that speaks to mebefore the world.I dig into myselflooking for some gift of words like soilto nourish the things unfurling inand aroundus all,the spaces betweenwhere relationship is written. Instead,I find ash,and the gentle invitation of a heart firefed by all that remainsyet unnamedwithin me.Perhaps it is … Continue reading The Sight →

Traceries

I sit beside the me that is youholding hands, holding our grief, I say,as you look back at us, those years like a wasteland,I say, “This is our fertile ground,this is our watershedflowing into mighty being, confluencepoints in the journey.”My heart marvels at the way our broken piecesrefract the beauty in these stark-edged, sharp-eyedraptor placeswhere … Continue reading Traceries →

Poetry

Spokenfreely, givingvoice in the silenced placewhere into darkness roots what isneedful,a term undefined by all butthe living of what mayresound trulywithin. (I'm starting to try to learn about different poetry forms. This is a mirror cinquain. A regular cinquain is 5 unrhymed lines with a syllable pattern of 2, 4, 6, 8, 2 so a … Continue reading Poetry →