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Fate

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Is it my fate to be sititng in bed at 10:39 pm
trying to push out one-more-poem?

they can’t be pushed
you know
only loving called from the caves that they hide in
the crevices within your heart

coaxed, called, soothed, spoiled,
delighted into the light

and is it my fate to be 27 years old
alone on an adventure towards meaningful living
trying to keep my cool
and live freely
joyfully
trying to live the life of a poem freed from its crevasse?

And what if my life was a poem
and I didn’t know what was coming around the corner until I got there

what if listening, not planning was my work?
and opening not limiting was my life?
and loving not living was my home?

 

To learn more about my 108 Poetry Challenge or to donate click here.

Fire

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It’s the end of the day
And I’m tired
And I don’t want to write about fire

The fire that is in our hearts
The fire that destroys the forest
in one fell swoop

Standing in the desert alone
The fire consumes a five story sculpture
That took all year to make
Burns it to dust

All art must be destroyed
And the fire in our heart must be kindled
Built up until it’s raging

Putting your blood sweat and tears into your real work
Nothing more,
Nothing less.

Build a fire.

To learn more about my 108 Poetry Challenge or to donate click here.

In the Name of Hair

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He winks at me and I cut it all off
brusquely
I am not who you think I am
I am not some submissive human
who will cook you the perfect breakfast
and then walk with you arm and arm in the park
I am not your trophy

I cut it all off and swear off
men like him

I meet another
who likes my short hair
but I cut it all off anyways
he is wrong
he is not perfect
he is

and I am dropped
plummeting
land
bruised
black and blue

i get up and keep running
and I couldn’t see the bruises then
I can now

and there is a heaviness in my heart
why so hard?
and so unseeing?
why so?

now I pause
as I lie on the ground
and breathe into the pain

I am hurt

I get up
holding my bruised heart
and carefully
step forward.
To learn more about my 108 Poetry Challenge or to donate click here.

Canoe Trips

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and we’re off!
a pack on my back
a canoe on your head
we are travelling

we are going to nowhere in particular
except for you have a specific campsite in mind and a map

i have my book
you have your headphones
and we’ll lie in the dirt
beneath the trees
blissful

I can only write poetry at the side of a lake
I can only be free in the mountains

my mind is the lake
my body the mountain
and i can find freedom with you

To learn more about my 108 Poetry Challenge or to donate click here.  All proceeds go to the Young Adult Program at Yasodhara Ashram.

Animals

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baby geese on the beach
who doesn’t love their cuteness?

and can I be cute in my poetry?
will anyone care if i’m not clever?

if I claim to love
will you laugh at my story?

if I cackle and wit
will you think I’m brilliant?

and what if they don’t love my poetry?
and what if they don’t love me?

what if its cute?
and plain jane?
and there’s no edge?
will my world wither into nothingness?

and will you love me as i am

 

To learn more about my 108 Poetry Challenge or to donate click here.

Beach Stones

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lying in perfect patterns
you crunch beneath my feet
and she knows that i am coming

i walk slowly
listening as the waves lap against the shore
shading the sun from my eyes
it is hot
and sweat rolls down my back

are you reading?
she shakes her head
and i sit beside her in the shade
are you still singing?
sometimes, she answers
not enough

what would make it enough?
i ask
freedom, she answers

we stand together
and walk slowly into the water
up to our necks
wearing our clothes

i look up
a bird flies overhead

do you think the birds are free?, i ask
she looks at me
and answers
yes.

 

 

To learn more about my 108 Poetry Challenge or to donate click here.

Singing on Rooftops

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Getting out of the window is awkward
Pass the guitar
The bottle of wine
The cool breeze makes its own way over

When we were young
we sang on rooftops
When we were young
we knew what was in our hearts
When we were young
we held hands – just to experiment

You make it out too
We look over the garden
And out to the lake
And we sing

We sing what is in our hearts
We sing the songs of our childhood
I sing my mother’s songs
You sing your’s
And we sing our history right back into the present

I don’t know what’s in your heart
But I know what’s in mine
And we sing.

 

To learn more about my 108 Poetry Challenge or to donate click here.  All proceeds go to the Young Adult Program at Yasodhara Ashram.

Wind

who has seen the wind?
the wise ones ask

and i have felt it
sweep over my skin
warm my heart

and i have felt it
shake me to my bones

I have not seen the wind
but I have fought it
peddling downhill
as it sweeps off the ocean
and asks me to question
do I really want to go over this hill and through these woods?
and does it have to be a fight?
and who is this wind off the ocean?
what does he stand for?
why are some days so hard?
and why does he blow?

who has seen the wind?
the wise ones ask
and i can’t stand it

who has heard the grain of sand speak?
and who has climbed the plains?
and who has touched the drifting melodies escaping from your lips?

who has seen the wind?
the wise ones ask

and I listen.

 

To learn more about my 108 Poetry Challenge or to donate click here.

Garden Crew

garden crew
a muttley crew
who love dirt
and worms

blood sweat and tears
they pour into this earth
to answer the simple question
how does your garden grow?

when asked
they shovel harder
weed faster
dig deeper
into their souls to find the answer

and what is life without a garden?
they ask the business people
what is life without a connection to the rhythm of the earth?
and what is life?

and the business people
plug the question into their iphones
promise to send a printout in the mail
and walk on.

 

To learn more about my 108 Poetry Challenge or to donate click here.