the wind whips through my hair
the sun kissing my face
I am free
I walk the real life
carrying a drill
and even though the bits are all stripped
I keep working
‘This isn’t structural is it?’
The wind blows
And a delicious tiredness washes over my body.
I am free.
To learn more about my 108 Poetry Challenge or to donate click here.
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.
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.
Trapped
In a small room
With a stale smell
I want to go out!
I want to meet the people in the fields
I want to smell the freshness in the air
I want to be free
But what is freedom?
And where, exactly, can it be found?
I’ve had moments on vacation
At the cottage
With spaciousness and beauty
Where suddenly I feel trapped
And other moments
Working hard
In the garden
Feeling free
So where does it exist? And how does it appear?
It seems to come when my mind stops grumbling about the harshness and awfulness of life
And my hearts sings clearly of the beauty
Determined to be free
That’s why I’m living
Determined to be free.
I used to believe
That my rule book would keep me safe
And when things got bad
I would grip it tighter
Knuckles white,
Shoulders tensed,
Don’t. Let. Go.
And when things were painful,
I would write more rules
#737 Never call a friend more than twice before they call back.
And then somewhere along the way
In the messiness of life
I broke the rules and tasted the freedom of rule-book-less living.
I danced in the streets and things got better.
I thought I was totally free but then realized there was more.
I want to be free
The birds don’t carry around rule books,
They’d never make it off the ground.
So I’ve spent the last year editing,
Going back,
Finding what I’ve written,
Changing clauses,
Crossing out.
I don’t remember half of what’s in the book,
Or why it’s there.
And as I learn to relax my shoulders, my neck and jaw,
The rules begin to fall right off the pages.
As I learn how to dance,
Some pages fall right out.
And as I learn how to live,
I find a knowing that one day the entire book will drop.
