Monday, December 16, 2013
Sometimes as a writer it's weird to see how things you've written a long time ago relate to people, and experiences and situations in your present? This blog is a kind of celebration of time not being linear, but very multi-dimensional. So, I'm playing with some older poems now and helping them find their place-- ala Emily Dickenson who, like me, enjoyed playing with rules and punctuation and order.
If you know me in real life, you'll laugh because the last thing I am, and ever want to be is a straight line ♥
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
I can hear myself think here
in this journey of wild divine
hear me come a’ soulin’
a’ soulin’ in your lovelight shine ~
here I come a’soulin’ in your soul so true
here I come a’soulin’.. souling deep within you
a friend, a lover, co-creater and muse:
soul shine yen yang whispers clearly so blue ~
fill me with your fragile beauty, with your questioning within
hear me come a’ soulin’ ~ a’ soulin’ across that ocean wind ~
here I come a’soulin’... in your heart so clear
here I come a’soulin’... can you feel me getting near?
lives hanging in the balance suspended in the wait
here I come a’soulin’ not finding us too late.
eclipsed in the chaos between the sun and moon
someday turning here to now’s way ~never saying never much too soon~
here we come a’ soulin’... what is there to fear?
here we come a’ soulin’...our answers all too clear ~
a soul, a soul, a soul, a soul
the world will ask a penny for your soul?
but we aren’t even from this place?
and our souls we will not forsake ~
so here we are soulin’... souling in our wild divine
blissed in loving freedom, our souls now intertwined ~
a soul, a soul, a soul, a soul …
find me thankful, my beautiful soul ~
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
Now, I'll tell you the story behind that poem. My granny Kate was one of the first people in Georgiana, AL (and to hear Daddy tell it Central Alabama) to have Christmas lights OUTSIDE! She was a Renaissance woman and maybe the third year or so they had electricity at Mockingbird Hill, Kate got out the Sears and Roebuck and ordered her some big, fat, outside Christmas lights for the Cedar tree planted near the road. The whole community came by to ogle them! The Cedar tree's not there anymore and when I asked Daddy to plant me one, he said "No!" Apparently JC (John Chester one of Daddy's older brothers) was the one who planted that tree and when it got big enough to shade his grave, well that's when he got appendicitis and died. Poppy says if you plant a Cedar when it gets big enough to shade your grave, you die.
Sunday, December 1, 2013
affirm yourself woman,
and know your name:
shout it from your diaphragm,
feel it rise up within you willing
that energy triumphant...freedom
trumpeting in the silky purple night ~
that name takes flight.
know yourself woman,
your bloom is becoming:
beckoning nectar rising under
blushing lips, pink tipped sun seeking madness ~
that flower is anonymous.
see yourself woman
through my crystal eyes:
bared naked lady without disguise
moving over and under and all around me ~
that lady is mystery.
see the world woman
with clarity of mind:
soul pollution purged through illusion's unkind
moving over and under and all around freely ~
that truth is liberty.
Friday, November 29, 2013
tattered before the ashy day’s end
back….accelerating me and I imagine
Thursday, November 21, 2013
sometimes I’d like to
this gravity’d girth ~
in ringed fire
hotwired in a
free as a bird
in a spacesuit
built for two ~
high on oxygen laced
in a moon walk.
Thursday, November 14, 2013
as fast as a kid
who knows she willl be airborne
watching you walk away:
my stunned silence
a hall of mirrors
I was me. Now,
knowing who I am
and what I want
that reflection I’m seeing
is your crestfallen
hope crumpled in a ball
giggled awkward refusals
now giving way
to adult’s ashes
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
deep and wide and hide
between the covers of the dirt
and work, writing a letter about sorry...
I can see the paper glowing white
as the letters flow ~ bright liquid tears
erasing fears I've disappointed you
and me while I wallowed selfishly
in pitied shame... in distorted humanity.
I am insanely numb in this in-fighting
in my head...the dead of knowing that
you hurt...and I hurt, so on I work
in my sorry whole.
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
staccato on a page,
haltingly painful brevity
stopping just short
of feeling like a fuck-off
it made me wonder more.
so I proceeded,
tiptoeing through your mind field.
giving what I hoped to find,
with every sentence
still held breath
you would want more
sudden clarity erases doubts
as it dawns on me in your
with your gritty teeth
that is everything I never wanted.
Thursday, October 17, 2013
What shines behind those sleeping eyes?
Am I tugging on your dreaming shores?
What lies there? Flotsam from the past?
So far removed now from bayou’s breath,
from streams and home and permanence,
I watch in shifting phases:
Drifting in dreamland's technicolored bayou brilliance.
Thursday, October 3, 2013
Monday, September 23, 2013
she recalled the red sled
winding down that solitary road
that tells the tale so well
stilled voices mourning
and so they all still come
Thursday, May 30, 2013
Friday, May 17, 2013
green how I love you green:
the tint of my faerie wings in
gossamer’d foamy ocean love
whispering to the gypsy moon above:
I hear him calling me from that foamy wide?
familiarly around my waist his laced fingers slide
so perfectly willing and thrilling my soul
green goddess beauty in love made wholly
free in silver flight, misfit hazy skimming
across that ocean’s breath this starry night ~
green how I love you green,
the silver blue green mingling of the sea,
phosphorus currents mixing magically
igniting imagination’s fire, your eyes shining
free in desire, poet’s hazy dreaming
upon that ocean’s breath this starry poem is agreeing~
with that green fading into blue, silver laced melancholy
falling ~ I hear your ocean’d breathy voice calling
and we’re closer…
closer to that green.
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
But we all have "one of those days" and teaching her navigate such is well, a little different.
She had one of those days a few weeks ago.
We were at a practice archery meet, same as any other meet and for some reason on this night she couldn't hit the side of a barn, much less the target. I wondered was it nerves? Her bow? Her arrows? Did she suddenly get the equivalent of the shanks? hmmmmm...
So, knowing she would be unhappy with her performance, I got her to the car and let it spill. After she got out her initial upset I determined that her weight had been loosened at practice to work on grouping and and and we didn't know what else?
The last thing I wanted was to assign blame, because really there isn't any, and never is. Bad days happen and will. So I told her all I know to do was tighten the bow back to where she'd shot well before and go from there....to pick herself up and we would practice some at home.
And then something wonderful happened. Jennifer Lawrence fell down at the 2013 Oscars. Now granted I'm sure that wasn't a happy place for Ms. Lawrence, but timing for me as a parent couldn't have been better. Jennifer is the face of Katniss, the Hunger Games heroine, and much to mine and my daughter's horror we discovered she can be clumsy just like us. The falling was AWFUL, what she did afterwards was amazing.
Jennifer Lawrence knows how to fall. She knows how to laugh it off and keep moving forward, and hopefully learn something from the experience.
Long story short tightning Savv's bow helped her find her aiming point again, and her confidence. But more than that I've noticed a huge change in how she approaches her passion. She knows the comfort of messing up and each time she has a flight now, I *see* her relax.
And that is a different page out of a silver linings playbook.
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
even those with all the right reasons
wrestle with it each and every night
unable to settle their days
with reason that used to make sleeping people
with other lives….other worlds….other
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
I’ve heard America singing
The gandydancers swinging so low
Folkstreaming visions of work
Now outsourced to a machine
That hums so white but low still
I’ve heard America singing
That poet’s barbaric yawp
Carrying me Home
Celebrating self songs of accomplished visions
While a Native Laureate’s flags unfurl in a river flowing West to Oklahoma
I’ve heard America singing
The pulpit’s amens looking down on
Colorblocked angels who come after me,
Shoulder to shoulder but divided still
In segregated harmonies
I’ve heard America singing
Eyes turned flagward
Before the game…
Mumbled uncertainty of tomorrow’s
Choked on words hard to forget…
Here’s what I hear:
America’s face now in a book
Dancers, poets, underground preachers…players
Each sweet with a prophet’s vision’s babel
Towering cacophony, all talking at once
Listening I wonder am I the only one
Who Heard America's Singing?