I go to the pond to sit
but they’re gone
taken away
the pond feels like a ghost town
where did they go?
my heart is broken
crushed
abandoned
what now?
I keep walking
and sit at the edge of a cliff
over looking the lake
there is stillness here
and I know
that my heart
will heal.
To learn more about my 108 Poetry Challenge or to donate click here.
can you dance with change?
can you follow the thread back
to where it begins?
to the far off cave where all secrets are held.
can you dance with change?
even on days when you are angry
that your plans are disrupted once again.
can you dance with anger?
can you dance with change?
rolling and tumbling and cartwheeling
until you lie exhausted
sprawled out on the floor.
can you dance with change?
gracefully accommodating
until you stop
turn
and walk the other way.
To learn more about my 108 Poetry Challenge or to donate click here.
bacon
spinach
hashbrowns
egg
the intimacy of brunch
eyes not yet open
faces soft
the dreamworld lingers
until the coffee hits
and the chatter picks up
and fried things begin
to enter
my belly
To learn more about my 108 Poetry Challenge or to donate click here.
toddling
I see, want, follow, capture
then distracted
something bright
I see, want, follow, capture
toddling
To learn more about my 108 Poetry Challenge or to donate click here.
Is home a hole I can crawl into when I am scared?
Or a more luminous way of living?
homemade cookies
chicken and mashed potatoes
hot baths and hugs
old friends with warm hearts
the place I go after
the adventure
I want to go home where places and people and things are familiar
but where my life is still alive
changing
evolving
adventure bursts into the stillness of the moment
sitting writing with the summer cactus at the kitchen table
To learn more about my 108 Poetry Challenge or to donate click here.
Where would I be without it?
doing the same job but more stressed
the same height but less tall
I would still drive standard
but would be more scared
and I wouldn’t know that I love to drive tractor
my life would be full
but less bright
fun but less funny
and long but less lived.
To learn more about my 108 Poetry Challenge or to donate click here. All proceeds go to the Young Adult Program at Yasodhara Ashram.
to create a body of work
you need
a body
and not just any-body
or some-body
but your very own body
to create a body of work
you need to breath into your lungs
and feel into your toes
and listen to your heart
your mind
your gut
you have to want it so badly that it hurts
and trick yourself to keep going when you forget
you have to run fast towards the finish line
sprint even
in your first draft
get it down!
fast.
polishing can come in leisurely afternoons
getting it down must be squeezed into crevices
as you wait for the bus
the 5 minutes before the dental hygienist calls your name
before you go to bed
for 10 minutes before you call your partner
squeeze it in!
and how do you keep going at this breakneck speed
when your project is much larger than a postage stamp
and you do and don’t know where it’s going to end up?
trick yourself
any way you can
and keep going
To learn more about my 108 Poetry Challenge or to donate click here.
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.
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.
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.
